VYTAUTO DIDŽIOJO UNIVERSITETAS Irma Stundžytė LAISVŲJŲ

VYTAUTO DIDŽIOJO UNIVERSITETAS
HUMANITARINIŲ MOKSLŲ FAKULTETAS
ANGLŲ FILOLOGIJOS KATEDRA
Irma Stundžytė
LAISVŲJŲ EILIŲ VERTIMO Į ANGLŲ KALBĄ PROBLEMOS: JONO
ZDANIO, LAIMOS SRUOGINIS IR KERRY'O SHAWNO KEYSO
POEZIJOS VERTIMŲ ANALIZĖ
Magistro baigiamasis darbas
Taikomosios anglų kalbotyros studijų programa, valstybinis kodas 62404H123
Filologijos studijų kryptis
Vadovė prof. habil. dr. Milda Danytė ________________ ______________
(parašas)
(data)
Apginta ____________________ _______________ _______________
(Fakulteto dekanas)
Kaunas, 2009
(parašas)
(data)
SOME ISSUES IN TRANSLATING FREE-VERSE POEMS FROM
LITHUANIAN TO ENGLISH: AN ANALYSIS OF TRANSLATIONS
BY JONAS ZDANYS, LAIMA SRUOGINIS AND KERRY SHAWN KEYS
By Irma Stundžytė
Department of English Philology
Vytautas Magnus University
Master of Arts Thesis
Supervisor: Prof. dr. Milda Danytė
May 2009
TABLE OF CONTENTS
SANTRAUKA ................................................................................................................................. 1
SUMMARY …………………………………………………………………………………........ 2
1. INTRODUCTION ……………………………………………………................................... 3
2. INTRODUCTION TO THE LITHUANIAN POETS: Henrikas Nagys,
Sigitas Geda, Nijole Miliauskaite, Antanas A. Jonynas and Sigitas Parulskis ………….. 6
3. FREE VERSE AND ITS TRANSLATION: THEORETICAL INTRODUCTION……....13
4. SYNTACTIC AND FORMAL FEATURES IN LITHUANIAN FREE-VERSE
POEMS …………………………………………………………….……………………........ 19
4.1
Ways of Categorising and Analysing Line-breaks as a Syntactic Feature of
Free Verse ……………………………………………………………………….……. 19
4.2
Kinga Klaudy and Krisztina Karoly’s System for Kinds and Functions of
Repetition ………………………………………………….………………………….. 21
4.3
Formal Characteristics of Free-Verse Poems …………………………………............. 25
4.3.1 The Purpose of Layout in Free-Verse Poems: Visual Effects ………………… 26
4.3.2
The Importance of Alliteration in Free-Verse Poems ……………………......... 30
5. STRATEGIES USED BY JONAS ZDANYS, LAIMA SRUOGINIS AND KERRY
SHAWN KEYS IN TRANSLATING LITHUANIAN FREE-VERSE POEMS ……........ 34
5.1
5.2
Theoretical Concepts Used for Translation Strategies by Lawrence Venuti and
Eirlys E. Davies ………………………………………………………………………… 34
5.1.1
Lawrence Venuti’s Concepts of Domestication and Foreignisation …………….34
5.1.2
Eirlys E. Davies’ Categories of Translation Strategies …………………………. 35
Applying Venuti’s Concepts of Domestication and Foreignisation to Translation
Choices Made by Jonas Zdanys, Laima Sruoginis and Kerry Shawn Keys …………….. 38
5.2.1 Issues in the English Translation of the Titles of Lithuanian Free-Verse
Poems ……………………………………………………………………........... 38
5.2.2 Transferring Line-breaks and Layout from Lithuanian to English in the
Translations …………………………………………………………………….. 42
1
5.2.3 Strategies in Translating Alliteration from Lithuanian to English ……….......... 52
5.2.4 Translators’ Strategies in Dealing with Repetition …………………………….. 61
6. CULTURE-SPECIFIC ITEMS IN SOME FREE-VERSE POEMS: CATEGORIES
AND TRANSLATION ISSUES ……………………………………………………………. 71
6.1
Categorising Culture-Specific Items in Lithuanian Free-Verse Poems ………............... 72
6.2
Translation Issues in Rendering Lithuanian Culture-Specific Items ………………….... 75
7. CONCLUSION ................................................................................................................…… 80
APPENDICES:
APPENDIX 1: The Lithuanian Originals and Their English Translations of the Poems
Discussed in the Thesis ………………………………………………………..
83
APPENDIX 2: Photographs of the Poets and Translators ………………………………….....
91
LIST OF REFERENCES ………………………………………………………………….....
95
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SANTRAUKA
Šiame darbe aptariama keletas pasirinktų laisvųjų eilių vertimo į anglų kalbą problemų.
Analizuojant lietuvių eilėraščius ir jų anglišką vertimą akcentuojama tam tikri sintaksiniai ir
formalūs laisvųjų eilių bruožai. Darbo tikslui atrinkta devyni laisvųjų eilių eilėraščiai tokių Lietuvių
poetų kaip Henrikas Nagys, Sigitas Geda, Nijolė Miliauskaitė, Antanas A. Jonynas ir Sigitas
Parulskis. Jų eilėraščius į anglų kalbą išvertė pripažinti literatūros vertėjai, Jonas Zdanys, Laima
Sruoginis ir Kerry’is Shawnas Keysas. Analizuojant vertimus siekiama paneigti nuomonę, jog
poezija neišverčiama, pateikiant pavyzdžių kaip sėkmingai, išvardyti vertėjai, perteikia originalo
teksto stilistines, ekspresyvines ir kultūrines reikšmes. Teorinėje darbo dalyje pateikiami lietuvių
poetų biografijos faktai, bei jų laisvųjų eilių kūrybos tematika ir stilistika. Taip pat aptariamos
pagrindinės laisvųjų eilių poezijos teorijos, išskiriamos svarbiausios jos savybės ir vertimo
ypatybės. Pirmiausiai, apibrėžiamas terminas ‚laisvosios eilės‘, vėliau išskiriami būdingiausi šios
poezijos bruožai ir nurodomi jos vertimo sunkumai. Kaip charakteringiausi sintaksiniai bruožai
išskiriama eilučių skaidymas ir pakartojimas; formalūs bruožai: eilėraščio forma arba struktūra
(teksto išdėstymas puslapyje) ir aliteracija.
Lyginamoji originalo ir verstinio eilėraščio tekstų analizė, visų pirma pateikia ir aptaria
formalias ir sintaksinias priemones esančias originalo tekste. Tuomet analizuojamas verstinis
tekstas, atsižvelgiant į pasirinktus vertėjų sprendimus perteikiant atrastas eilėraščio savybes.
Dėmesys skiriamas Jono Zdanio, Laimos Sruoginis ir Kerry'o Shawno Keyso vertimo strategijoms,
verčiant lietuvių poetų laisvąsias eiles. Jų sprendimai aptariami remiantis Lawrence‘o Venučio
bendraisiais vertimo terminais „svetimžodžio vartojimas“ (angl. „domestication“) ir „priartinimas
prie verstinio teksto kultūros“ (angl. „foreignisation“), bei Eirlys E. Davies konkrečiomis
literatūrinio vertimo strategijomis. Analizuojant vertimus atsižvelgiama į tai, kaip vertėjams
pavyksta perteikti verčiamo teksto eilučių skaidymą, jo formą, pakartojimus, aliteraciją, bei
kultūrines realijas.
Analizuojant eilėraščius pastebėta, jog pasirinkti lietuvių poetai dažniausiai naudoja tokias
menines priemones kaip išskirtinią eilėraščio formą, aliteraciją ir pakartojimus, rečiau aptinkami
prasminiai eilučių skaidymai. Tuo tarpu minėti vertėjai kaip įmanoma stengiasi atkurti bendrą
originalo teksto efektą jų skaitytojui, sukurtą poeto naudojant pasirinktas sintaksinias ir fomaliąsias
priemones. Taip pat vertėjai suvokia kultūrinių realijų svarbą originalo tekste, tadėl jų vertimo
sprendimai dažniausiai sėkmingai perteikia kultūrinę informaciją verstiniame tekste. Apibendrinant,
vertėjai linkę išlaikyti kuo artimesnę originalo eilėračio reikšmę labiau nei jo formą, o pasitaikantys
semantiniai ar stilistiniai praradimai kompensuojami kitomis panašų estetinį ir emocinį efektus
skaitytojui sukeliančiomis priemonėmis.
3
SUMMARY
In general this thesis discusses some issues in translating free-verse poems from Lithuanian to
English. Certain syntactic and formal features of free-verse are considered while analysing the
original Lithuanian poems and discussing their translations into English. For this purpose, nine
Lithuanian free-verse poems by Henrikas Nagys, Sigitas Geda, Nijolė Miliauskaitė, Antanas A.
Jonynas and Sigitas Parulskis have been chosen. The translations of these poems have been done by
well-acknowledged translators such as Kerry Shawn Keys, Jonas Zdanys and Laima Sruoginis. The
thesis argues against the idea of the untranslatability of poetry and shows how relatively successful
these translators are in transferring the stylistic, expressive and cultural values of the Lithuanian
free-verse poems. The thesis starts with a theoretical section which, first, offers some major
biographical facts about the poets’ lives and points out significant thematic and stylistic
characteristics of their free-verse poems. It also provides insights into major theories about the
nature of free verse and its translation, first by defining the concept of free verse and commenting
on its characteristic features, and then by referring to problematic aspects for its translation. The
syntactic features discussed include line-breaks and repetition, while the formal features that are
considered include layout and alliteration.
A comparative analysis of Lithuanian free-verse poems and their translations is carried
out, first by observing and discussing certain formal and syntactic features used by Lithuanian poets
and then by looking at the decisions made by translators in rendering these features. The focus is
given to the strategies that are used by Kerry Shawn Keys, Jonas Zdanys and Laima Sruoginis in
translating Lithuanian free-verse poems. For a discussion of translators’ choices, Lawrence Venuti’s
broad concepts of domestication and foreignisation are applied together with more specific
categorisations of translation strategies by Eirlys E. Davies. The analysis of the translations looks
specifically at how translators manage to transfer line-breaks and layout, to render repetition and
alliteration, and to deal with culture-specific items that appear in the original texts.
It has been noted that the devices that are commonly used by Nagys, Geda, Miliauskaitė,
Jonynas and Parulskis are layout, alliteration and repetition, while line-breaks are less prominent.
The analysis of Keys, Zdanys and Sruoginis’ translations shows that these translators do their best
to produce the same over-all effects that are created by a particular poet’s use of syntactic and
formal devices. They are aware of the importance of cultural references in the Lithuanian texts, and
their translation decisions of these are, in the majority of instances, successful. In general,
translators seek to be faithful in transferring meaning more than form, but, in most cases, they
compensate for these formal losses by using other poetic devices to achieve similar aesthetic and
emotional effects.
4
1. INTRODUCTION
During the history of literary translation a number of different views have emerged about the
translation of poetry. In general, poetry is considered the most challenging of all the literary genres
to translate, for a poem contains not only certain linguistic features, but also particular aesthetic and
expressive values that are created through an extremely complex interplay of form and meaning.
These factors lead some to believe in extremes such as that poetry is untranslatable. However, this
notion has been widely criticised since, indeed, loss is inevitable in all processes of translation,
because it involves structural differences between two languages in terms of lexicon, phonology,
morphology, syntax, semantics, and aesthetic traditions. Still, the creativity required in translating
poetry is acknowledged to be almost equal to its original creation, for here the translator is required
to deal with very complex formal features as well as content. The translators’ principal task is not a
search for complete equivalence for the form and content of the original poem, but the creation of a
similar intellectual and emotional effect on the target-text readers, as well as the retention of the
poet’s major stylistic choices.
There are many types of poetry that have been translated; among these is free verse, which
in general can be differentiated from other verse forms as one that lacks regular metre or a fixed
rhyme scheme, but instead uses various other formal and syntactic devices to create a sense of
regularity and to produce the aesthetics of a poem. Although in this case the translator does not have
to struggle with the task of creating a metrical pattern or transferring regular rhyme, readers have to
be careful not to underestimate the complexity of the stylistic features of a free-verse poem.
This thesis, which is divided into seven main sections, discusses some issues in translating
free-verse poems from Lithuanian to English. For the purpose of the analysis, nine free-verse poems
have been chosen from those written by Henrikas Nagys (1920-1996), Sigitas Geda (1943-2008),
Nijolė Miliauskaitė (1950-2002), Antanas A. Jonynas (b. 1953) and Sigitas Parulskis (b. 1965). The
general goal of the thesis is to identify and discuss certain formal, syntactic and cultural free-verse
features in these specific Lithuanian poems, and to analyse twelve translations that have been made
by well-acknowledged translators such as Jonas Zdanys, Laima Sruoginis and Kerry Shawn Keys.
Only Antanas A. Jonynas’ poem “Gaisras” (“Fire”) is a collaborative translation by Zdanys,
Antanas Danielius and Craig Czury. The analytical part of the thesis seeks to provide some insights
into translators’ choices when tackling problematic cases in Lithuanian free-verse texts. In general,
the thesis argues against the idea of the untranslatability of poetry and shows how relatively
successful these translators are in transferring stylistic, expressive and cultural values of these
particular Lithuanian free-verse poems.
5
Keys, Zdanys and Sruoginis are not only literary translators, but poets in their own right as
well. All of them have a good knowledge of Lithuanian and are recognised as bilingual translators
in the United States and Lithuania. These translators took their university degrees in English
literature and writing. Most important, their competence in Lithuanian is very good, for either they
acquired it growing up in a Lithuanian family or while living in Lithuania for many years. Thus, for
instance, Kerry Shawn Keys (b. 1946), whose Lithuanian is the least fluent, was born in the United
States and is not Lithuanian in origin, but has lived in Lithuania for a number of years; according to
a website, “he taught translation theory and creative composition from 1998 to 2000 at Vilnius
University” (“Kerry Shawn Keys” 2009). He mainly translates from Lithuanian into English and
has published about ten books of his translations (“Kerry Shawn Keys” 2008). A member of the
Lithuanian Writers Union from 2002 and of the PEN Centre of Lithuania and the Lithuanian
Association of Literary Translators, he is recognised as a talented literary translator in Lithuania.
Jonas Zdanys and Laima Sruoginis are both Lithuanian-Americans for whom English has
become their strongest language, though Lithuanian, the native language of their parents, was the
first they spoke. An internet source states: “Zdanys (b. 1950) [was] born a few months after his
parents arrived in the United States from a United Nations camp for Lithuanian refugees” (“Book
Signing” 2007). Lithuanian was his first language as he did not learn English until he started
attending school (“Book Signing” 2007). As Andrew Maloney points out, from 1992 Zdanys has
been a member of Lithuanian Writers Union; he is also a member of the Editorial Board of PEN of
the Lithuania and of Lithuanian Association of the Literary Translators (2008). In comparison to
Sruoginis and Keys, he has written and translated the most, over thirty-seven books (“Book
Signing” 2007). Zdanys, contrary to Keys, translates in both directions: from Lithuanian into
English and the reverse
Like Zdanys, Laima Sruoginis (b. 1966) is Lithuanian in origin and as Rima Pociūtė states,
“grew up in the Lithuanian émigré community in the United States, but spent her high school years
studying at the Lithuanian Gymnasium in Germany” (1996). She visited Lithuania for the first time
when she was sixteen in 1982 (“Laima Vincė” 2001). Later, as Pociūtė indicates, Sruoginis “spent a
year in Lithuania in 1988-1989 studying Lithuanian literature at Vilnius University” (1996). As a
literary translator she has compiled and edited three anthologies of contemporary Lithuanian
literature (“Laima Sruoginis” 2006).
The nine Lithuanian free-verse poems and their translations that have been chosen for this
thesis are as follows: Henrikas Nagys’ poem “Laterna Obscura” (1959), translated by Zdanys;
Sigitas Geda’s poems “Atsakymas į marsiečių užklausimą” (1987), translated by Zdanys as “An
Answer to the Martians’ Inquiry” and Sruoginis as “An Answer to a Martian Chronicler,” “Angelas
krintantis Palangoj” (1982), translated by Zdanys as “An Angel Falling in Palanga” and by Keys as
6
“Angel Falling in Palanga,” and “Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse” (1987) translated by Keys as “Trash
Truck in Justiniškės;” Nijolė Miliauskaitė’s poems “auksinį plauką…” (1993), “I found a golden
hair,” translated by Zdanys, “sėdėjo prie pat gatvės” (1993), “Sitting Beside the Very Street,”
translated by Sruoginis, and “Lėlių siuvėja” (1993), which Sruoginis calls “Doll Maker” and
Zdanys “The Doll Maker;” Antanas A. Jonynas’ “Gaisras,” translated as “Fire” (1994) by Zdanys in
cooperation with Danielius and Czury; and, finally, Sigitas Parulskis’ poem “Šaltis” (1993),
translated as “Cold” by Sruoginis. Where are two different translations of the Lithuanian poems,
this allows a comparative analysis to reveal preferences for certain strategies by Jonas Zdanys,
Laima Sruoginis and Kerry Shawn Keys.
The major sources used in discussing free verse and its translation include critics like
Chris Baldick (1990), J. A. Cuddon (1991), Peter Newmark (1992), Frederick Garber (1994),
Donald Wesling and Eniko Bollobás (1994), T. V. F. Brogan (1994), M. H. Abrams (1999), Kinga
Klaudy and Krisztina Károly (2002), Lawrence Venuti (2002), and Eirlys E. Davies (2003).
Section 2 offers some biographical facts about the five Lithuanian poets and points out
significant thematic and stylistic characteristics of their free-verse poems; the poets are grouped
under three different generations. Then Section 3 provides insights into theories about free verse
and its translation, first by defining the concept of free verse and commenting on its characteristic
features, and then referring to problematic aspects for its translation. A clear distinction between
metrical and free verse is made in this section by analysing concrete examples of each.
These features are discussed in greater detail in Section 4, which is divided in three subsections. Accordingly, Sub-section 4.1 introduces two main categories of line-breaks and analyses
their instances in concrete examples taken from free-verse poems, while Sub-section 4.2 is devoted
to a discussion of Kinga Klaudy and Krisztina Karoly’s system for kinds and functions of repetition.
Further, Sub-section 4.3 examines some formal characteristics such as layout and alliteration that
are very common devices used in free verse. Here Sub-section 4.3.1 discusses the importance of
layout, commenting on the effects of the positioning of lines, stanzaic patterns, and other visual
cues, including white spaces between words, lines and stanzas. Next, Sub-section 4.3.2 focuses on
alliteration as one of sound devices most often used by free-verse poets. Several different
approaches to the concept of alliteration are provided along with a table in which alliteration is
categorised according the relative positions of repeated sounds in words or lines: these categories
have been created by the author of this thesis.
A comparative analysis of the selected Lithuanian free-verse poems and their translations
starts in Section 5. Here the focus is on the strategies that are used by Jonas Zdanys, Laima
Sruoginis and Kerry Shawn Keys in translating Lithuanian free-verse poems. Sub-section 5.1
introduces some major theoretical concepts used for translation strategies in literary texts. In Sub7
section 5.1.1 Lawrence Venuti’s broad concepts of domestication and foreignisation are discussed,
while Sub-section 5.1.2 focuses on more specific categorisations of translation strategies by Eirlys
E. Davies, some of which are useful in the analysis of the English translations.
In addition, Sub-section 5.2 analyses the English translations according to Venuti’s
concepts of domestication and foreignisation. In this case, the focus is on four key issues: Subsection 5.2.1 looks at the translation of titles; Sub-section 5.2.2 deals with transference of linebreaks and layout into English; Sub-section 5.2.3 examines the translators’ attempts to retain
patterns of alliteration that appear in Lithuanian texts; and, finally, Sub-section 5.2.4 looks at what
strategies these translators use in dealing with repetition.
Section 6 deals with another problematic aspect in translation, known as culture-specific
items. Sub-section 6.1 provides a categorisation of culture-specific items that have been observed in
selected Lithuanian free-verse texts. They are grouped as follows: culture-specific items from
Western cultural tradition, Lithuanian geographical names, and other Lithuanian culture-specific
items. Here the discussion concerns how familiar or foreign the Lithuanian cultural references may
appear to English readers. Accordingly, Sub-section 6.2 analyses the translators’ decisions in
rendering concrete culture-specific items. The appendix of this thesis provides a list of Lithuanian
free-verse poems and their English translations under analysis; it also contains photographs of the
poets and translators.
2. INTRODUCTION TO THE LITHUANIAN POETS: Henrikas Nagys, Sigitas Geda,
Nijolė Miliauskaitė, Antanas A. Jonynas and Sigitas Parulskis
This section provides some biographical and critical information about the five Lithuanian poets
whose poems and their translations into English are analysed in this thesis. First, some biographical
facts are given as background information. In addition, some major ideas about their poetic style are
presented. These particular poets have been chosen mainly because their specific poems present
interesting translation issues. However, as it happens, they represent different generations of
modern Lithuanian poetry.
For this reason, the poets Henrikas Nagys, Sigitas Geda, Nijolė Miliauskaitė, Antanas A.
Jonynas and Sigitas Parulskis can be placed in three different generations. The first is the interwar
generation, to which Nagys belongs, who was born in 1920, and the majority of whose poems were
published in exile. Three other poets, Sigitas Geda (born in 1943), Nijolė Miliauskaitė (born in
1950) and Antanas A. Jonynas (born in 1953), who lived and did much of their writing in the Soviet
period, belong to the World War II and Soviet post-war generation. The youngest of these five
8
poets is Sigitas Parulskis (born in 1965), who has published mostly in period of renewed Lithuanian
independence and thus belongs to the newer generation of writers. The discussion of features of
their poetry dwells upon two major topics: general themes and style, focusing on aspects relevant to
the poems that appear in the analysis. Since the majority of the critical sources were written in
Lithuanian, the translation of all the quotations from these has been done by the author of this
paper.
Henrikas Nagys (1920-1996), the oldest of these five poets, belongs to the interwar
generation. Though only one of his free-verse poems, “Laterna Obscura” (1959), from the
collection Mėlynas sniegas (The Blue Snow, 1960) is discussed, it has been chosen because it is an
excellent example of a free-verse text that manages to create a very strong sense of rhythm without
using traditional metre or rhyme. The major critical sources that have been used to provide
information about Nagys’ life and poetic style are Julius Kaupas (1958; 1963), Alfonsas Čipkus
(1959), Ilona Gražytė (1975), Milda Danys (1986), Vytautas Vanagas (1996), Virginija Balsevičiūtė
(2001), and Rūta Miliauskaitė (2001).
Nagys’ biography should be discussed along with the historical situation of his time. Born
in Mažeikiai on October 12, 1920, he started his studies in Vytautas Magnus University but after its
closing in 1943 and the renewed occupation of Lithuania by the Soviet army, he left Lithuania to go
to Austria (Gražytė 1975: 12; Kaupas 1959: 477). Here he completed a doctorate in German
literature on Georg Trakl’s poetry (Gražytė 1975: 12; Kaupas 1959: 477). As Milda Danys explains,
a very large number of Lithuanian artists and intellectuals fled from their homeland when the Soviet
army occupied their country for a second time in 1944 (1986: 43). The most usual reason was that
“people feared of being sent to Siberian camps as such deportations had occurred during the first
Soviet occupation in 1941 (Danys 1986: 275). Danys further explains that “those who left Lithuania
expected to return there after the war, but when the Soviet Union continued to occupy their
homeland, they stayed in refugee (DP) camps in Germany” (1986: 275), becoming Displaced
Perssons (DPs). Here Nagys published his first book of poetry, Eilėraščiai, 1946 (Poems). When
the camps were closed, Nagys emigrated in 1949, first to the United States and then settled for the
rest of his life in Canada (Danys 1986: 275, 347). Though he worked briefly as a lecturer at the
Université de Montréal (Gražytė 1975: 12), he had to take a variety of jobs, eventually working in a
secondary school (Kaupas 1959: 477).
Meanwhile, Nagys was able to express himself as a writer within the Lithuanian diaspora
community. One of his major positions, as Kaupas indicates, was “serv[ing] on the editorial board
of the Lithuanian literary review (1952-1959) Literatūros Lankai (Folios of Literature)” (1959:
477). This journal developed from the Žemė (Earth) anthology published in the United States of
America in 1951 (Grinius 1966: 228). According to Antanas Grinius, the anthology united writers
9
in emigration who came to poetic maturity during World War II and the period of the Soviet
occupation of Lithuania (1966: 228); the poets who belonged to the Žemė (Earth) anthology were
Juozas Kėkštas, Kazys Bradūnas, Alfonsas Nyka-Niliunas, Vytautas Marčėnas and Henrikas Nagys.
The editor of Žemė (Earth) Juozas Girnius identified philosophical and existential tendencies as the
most common characteristic of this generation (1966: 228). Later their work appeared in the form of
the journal Literatūros Lankai (Folios of Literature). This generation of poets was formally
innovative; thus, it was differentiated from the older generation of poets romantics who followed
strict thematic and formal traditions (Čipkus 1958: 290).
Nagys published eight collections of poetry from 1946 to 1996: Eilėraščiai (Poems, 1946),
Lapkričio naktys (November Nights, 1947), Saulės laikrodžiai (The Sundials, 1952), Mėlynas
sniegas (The Blue Snow, 1960), Broliai balti aitvarai (Brothers, White Spirits, 1969) (Gražytė 1975:
13), Prisijaukinsiu sakalą (I’ll Tame a Hawk, 1978), Grįžulas (Bear, 1990) (Vanagas 1996: 339)
and Sakalų valanda (The Hour of Hawks, 1996) (Balsevičiūtė 2001: 309).
Although Nagys’ experience in emigration in Canada constituted a major loss for him, it
did have a great impact on his thematic choices in his poetry. In general, Kaupas states that “Nagys’
poetry is individualistic, idealistic and cosmopolitan” (1959: 478). Thus, as Kaupas explains, “being
dissatisfied with erotic, patriotic, and religious themes, Nagys turned to the totality of human
existence and extolled man's freedom for self-determination and his indeterminateness” (1963: 53).
However, not all of his poetry refers to existentialist issues; in Kaupas’ words, frequent references
to his childhood and the landscape of his particular region of Lithuania are also observable in his
later collections one of which is Mėlynas sniegas (The Blue Snow), from which the poem “Laterna
Obscura” is discussed in this thesis.
Ilona Gražytė argues that “Nagys has enriched the traditional lyrical, graceful and lightcoloured Lithuanian romanticism with darker, richer colours, with a dramatic tone emptied of
romantic self-pity” (1975: 13, tr. Stundžytė). Further, Kaupas indicates that Nagys’ very first poems
(1938-1939) were already different from earlier, traditional Lithuanian verse and manifested new
stylistic tendencies (1959: 477). Thus, Nagys is a significant figure as a pioneer of new, more
Western traditions in poetry in which traditional forms for poetry are replaced by free-verse
(Kaupas 1959: 478). Still, Nagys prefers splitting a poem into stanzas, linking him to traditional
forms. Section 5 presents a more detailed analysis of Nagys’ use of free-verse features in a specific
poem, “Laterna Obscura.”
The second poet whose work has been selected for examination is Sigitas Geda (19432008), the oldest of the three who came to maturity in the Soviet period: the generation of the World
War II and post-war. Some useful articles on his poems have been written by Rimvydas Šilbajoris
(1992), Vytautas Kubilius (1996), Laima Sruoginis (1997), Dalia Satkauskytė (2001), Elena
10
Baliutytė (2002) and Vladas Braziūnas (2007). Geda was born in Pateriai on February 4, 1943. He
graduated from Vilnius University in 1966 in Lithuanian language and literature (Sruoginis 1997:
66). His first collection of poems Pėdos (Footprints) was published in 1966, soon after his
graduation (Satkauskytė 2001: 147, tr. Stundžytė). According to Dalia Satkauskytė, Gedas’ début
“demonstrated an extraordinary poetic potential” (2001: 147, tr. Stundžytė) which was immediately
recognised, so that after a year he was accepted as a member of Lithuanian Writers’ Union
(Sruoginis 1997: 66).
In the course of his poetic career, Geda published over sixteen collections of poetry,
including Pėdos (Footprints, 1966), Užmigę žirgeliai (Sleeping Horses, 1970), 26 rudens ir vasaros
giesmės (26 Hymns of Autumn and Summer, 1972), Mėnulio žiedai (Blossoms of the Moon, 1977),
Žydinti slyva Snaigyno ežere (The Blooming Plum-tree on Snaigynas Lake, 1981), Varnėnas po
mėnuliu (Starling Under the Moon, 1984), Mamutų tėvynė (The Homeland of Mammoths, 1985),
Žalio gintaro vėriniai (Green Beads of Amber, 1988), Septynių vasarų giesmės (Hymns of Seven
Winters, 1991), Babilono atstatymas (Reconstruction of Babylon, 1994), Gedimino valstybės
fragmentas (A Fragment from Gediminas’ State, 1997), Jotvingių mišios (The Mass of the
Jotvingiai, 1997), Skrynelė dvasioms pagauti (A Little Chest for Catching Spirits, 1998), Sokratas
kalbasi su vėju (Socrates Speakes to the Wind, 2001) (Satkauskytė 2001: 185), and Po aštuoniolikos
metų: atsisveikinimas su Jabaniškėmis (After Eighteen Years: Farewell to Jabaniškės, 2003)
(Braziūnas 2007).
While reading Geda’s poems, it is easy to note that they indeed go beyond traditional
boundaries and create their own forms. Since the selected poems in this paper are from Geda’s
collection Žalio gintaro vėriniai (Green Beads of Amber, 1988), most of the attention is given to the
thematic choices and style in this collection. Writing about Geda, both Šilbajoris and Sruoginis state
that the major themes in this collection are childhood, Lithuanian historical periods, and fragile and
dark everyday existence (Šilbajoris 1992: 414; Sruoginis 1997: 66). Sruoginis indicates that many
of Geda’s poems “draw its strength from his childhood and from Lithuanian history, merging a
pantheistic voice with postmodernist aesthetic” (1997: 66). Baliutytė agrees with this idea: she
states that from the very first poems, Geda experiments and uses innovative style in his poetry
(2002: 265). According to Brian McHale a specialist in postmodernism, “postmodernist features are
organised in terms of opposition with features of modernist poetics: contradiction, randomness,
excess, urbanism, dehumanisation, primitivism, experimentalism [and others]” (1987: 14). Some of
these characteristics can be observed in Geda’s poetry as well, especially those of contradiction,
urbanism and experimentalism.
The most prominent feature of Geda’s experimentation, noted by Braziūnas, is his
“manipulation with language: forms and grammar” (2007, tr. Stundžytė). In addition to this, in
11
Baliutytė’s words, he is also known for his untraditional forms of poems (2002: 96). Specifically,
Kubilius points out that Geda uses “discontinuous sentences which usually are not visibly
connected on a page” (1996: 550, tr. Stundžytė), because they do not start with capital letters and do
not end with a full stop: a sentence may appear as the middle part of some very long poem.
Similarly, Kubilius points out that Geda uses a “dynamic stream instead of logical constructions in a
poem” (1996: 552, tr. Stundžytė).
The third poet under consideration is Nijolė Miliauskaitė (1950–2002), a Lithuanian
woman writer who in free verse created her own manner of constructing verse lines, using certain
patterns that illuminate the mood and aesthetics of a poem. Aušra Tamaliūnaitė-Tamošiūnienė and
G. Ramoškaitė-Gedienė suggest that Miliauskaitė’s writings can be divided into two major periods
of her poetic creation: the first (1985-1988) and the second periods of her creation (1995-1999). The
latter period is the most productive and focuses more on her inner experiences, refering to eastern
philosophy and existentialism (Ramoškaitė-Gedienė 2003: 3-8). The three poems which have been
selected belong to this period and are taken from the collection Uždraustas įeiti kambarys (The
Forbidden Room, 1995).
Again, as with Geda, not many extensive critical studies on Nijolė Miliauskaitė’s poetry and
life have been published; however, three valuable books on her biography and poetry provide an
appropriate source of critical material: Viktorija Daujotytė, Esė apie poeziją ir esimą: esė (2001);
G. Ramoškaitė-Gedienė, Moteris su lauko gėlėmis: knyga apie Nijolės Miliauskaitės: atsiminimai,
pokalbiai, laiškai (2003); and Aušra Tamaliūnaitė-Tamošiūnienė, Tylos skambėjimas. Nijolės
Miliauskaitės gyvenimas ir poezija (2005). Some additional information has been taken from
critical articles.
Daujotytė writes that Nijolė Miliauskaitė was born in a working-class family in Keturvalakai
on January 23, 1950 (2001: 140). Her parents sent her to a boarding school for children of poor
families (Daujotytė 2001: 140). Here she wrote her first poems which were published in the school
newspaper (Daujotytė 2001: 140). In 1973 she graduated from Vilnius University with a degree in
Lithuanian language and literature (Daujotytė 2001: 140). She married Vytautas Bložė, who is also
a major Lithuanian poet (Daujotytė 2001: 140). Her first collection of poetry Uršulės S. portretas
(The Portrait of Ursula S.), appeared in 1985; her later collections are Namai, kuriuose negyvensim
(The Home We will Never Live in, 1988), Uždraustas įeiti kambarys (The Forbidden Room, 1995)
and Sielos labirintas (Labyrinth of the Soul, 1999) (Daujotytė 2001: 140). Tragically, Nijolė
Miliauskaitė died of cancer on 27 March 2002 at the age of 52 (Tamaliūnaitė-Tamošiūnienė 2005:
8).
In general, Miliauskaitė is considered, as has also been said of Nagys and Geda, a writer
whose poetry is often discussed in connection to her life; for example, according to Tamaliūnienė12
Tamošiūnienė, “personal life experience and general truths of life are the strongest aspects of her
poetic expression” (2005: 26, tr. Stundžytė). Her book Uždraustas įeiti kambarys (The Forbidden
Room) has several themes which dominate as well in the free-verse poems which have been chosen
for this paper: according to Ramoškaitė-Gedienė, “a working woman, everyday existence, and
childhood” (2003: 188, tr. Stundžytė) are the principal themes of this collection.
Sigitas Parulskis and Daujotytė agree that most of Miliauskaitė’s free-verse poems are
written in an informal, more colloquial language; they are detailed and full of colourful expressions
(Parulskis 2002: 12, tr. Stundžytė; Daujotytė 2001: 148, tr. Stundžytė). Another important feature of
her style is the form of the poem which, as Parulskis indicates, is more similar to prose than to
poetry (2002: 12, tr. Stundžytė). Her verse lacks regular division into lines and stanzas, so that the
whole poem tends to be read as a single sentence. However, she does leave spaces between groups
of lines which regulate the reading pace.
In considering Miliauskaitė’s style, Parulskis states that “she does not rhyme her poems; her
speech flows freely without a strict changing of rhythm” (2002: 12, tr. Stundžytė). At the same time
he argues that “to a certain extent, her poems are composed of fragmented discourses which create a
kind of rhythm in a poem” (Parulskis 2002: 53, tr. Stundžytė). This indicates that, though these
poems do not use any traditional metres, they provide the readers with a sense of regularity. Even
more, her poetry often sounds colloquial, a speaking voice which is much less formal than that used
by, for example, Henrikas Nagys. Parulskis explains that “the lack of punctuation and capital letters
in any of her poems, and the use of line-breaks as well as repetitions make her poems free and
unconventional in style” (2002: 53, tr. Stundžytė). Similarly, Daujotytė notes that “her language is
not very logically structured; it is more a stream of thoughts” (2001: 147, tr. Stundžytė).
The fourth poet whose work is discussed in this thesis is Antanas A. Jonynas born, on
November 26, 1953 in Vilnius. The critics that have been selected for the analysis of his poetry
include Valentinas Sventickas (1991), Vytautas Kubilius (1996), Vytautas Vanagas (1996),
Ričardas Pakalniškis (2001), Viktorija Šeina (2001), Rita Tūtlytė (2006) and Vladas Braziūnas
(2007).
Jonynas, the son of an earlier Lithuanian poet, Antanas Jonynas (1923-1976), grew up and
developed as a poet in the capital of Vilnius, which allows some critics to consider him as “a
representative of urban culture” (Braziūnas 2007, tr. Stundžytė). He graduated from Vilnius
University in 1976 with a degree in Lithuanian language and literature (Braziūnas 2007). He has
published more than eleven collections of poetry which include: Metai kaip strazdas (A Year as a
Thrush, 1977), Atminties laivas (Ship of Memory, 1980), Parabolė (Prabola, 1984), Tiltas ir kiti
eilėraščiai (A Bridge and other Poems, 1986), Nakties traukinys
(Night Train, 1990), Toks
pasaulis: eilėraščiai Šiaurės Atėnams ir Visatai (Such the World: Poems for the North Athens and
13
the Universe, 1994), Krioklys po ledu (Waterfall under the Ice, 1997), Aguonų pelenai (Ashes of
Poppies, 2002), Laiko inkliuzai /Inclusions in Time (2002), Lapkričio atkrytis (The Relapse of
November, 2003), Rugsėjo pilnatis (The Moonlight of September, 2003), and other (Tūtlytė 2006:
181).
Jonynas may be considered as the most lyrical poet of the five discussed in this thesis,
though mainly writing in free verse. Thus, the chosen poem is a sonnet written in a free-verse style.
Accordingly, Braziūnas and Sventickas agree that the form of Jonynas’ poems varies from a sonnet
to a symmetrical quatrain (Sventickas 1991: 94, tr. Stundžytė). The prevailing themes in his poetry,
as Pakalniškis indicates, are love and death (2001: 204, tr. Stundžytė). Most of the critics agree that
a common feature of his poetry is musicality (Braziūnas 2007; Kubilius 1996: 565; Pakalniškis
2001: 203; Sventickas 1991: 95). For instance, Kubilius explains that Jonynas writes a poem “as a
piece of music with many improvisations and repetitions of sounds proceeding to the rhythmic of
jazz and the blues” (1996: 565, tr. Stundžytė). Similarly, Šeina specifies that improvisations made
by Jonynas include the playing with “consonance and assonance of sounds” (2001: 18, tr.
Stundžytė). Even more, Šeina indicates that Jonynas deliberately “distorts the rhythm and does not
keep to the same number of syllables per line in order to achieve a spoken rhythmic which is similar
to jazz” (2001: 18, tr. Stundžytė).
Other important aspects noted by Sventickas in Jonynas’ poetic style are the absence of
punctuation and repetition of words (1991: 67). Still, Sventickas points out, though Jonynas repeats
words many times in a poem, he prefers not “to emphasise them in any other way (for instance,
using some morphological variations), for words to be of equal importance” (1991: 93, tr.
Stundžytė). Nevertheless, Sventickas indicates that “[Jonynas] creates rhythm and sometimes even
rhyme by repeating the sounds of consonances and assonances, making lines flow melodically”
(1991: 96, tr. Stundžytė).
The youngest poet whose work is discussed in this thesis is Sigitas Parulskis (b. 1965),
who belongs to the more recent generation of poets, and is especially popular with the younger
public. As a fairly recent writer, it is not surprising that there is little critical material on him.
Nevertheless, some critics have been found who provide a useful insight into his poetry: Gintaras
Bleizgys (1996), Donata Mitaitė (2001), Vanda Zaborskaitė (2002), Vladas Braziūnas (2007) and
Juozas Jasaitis (2007).
Parulskis was born in the village of Obeliai on February 10, 1965 (Mitaitė 2001: 372). In
1990 he got a degree in Lithuanian language and literature at Vilnius University (Mitaitė 2001:
372). From 1994 he has been a member of the Lithuanian Writers’ Union (Mitaitė 2001: 372). He
has published four collections of poetry: Iš ilgesio visa tai (All This is from Longing, 1990),
Mirusiųjų (Of the Dead, 1994), Mortui sepulti sint (1998), 50 eilėraščių (50 poems, 1999) (Jasaitis
14
2007: 555). The poem “Cold”, which is analysed in this paper, is taken from the collection
Mirusiųjų (Of the Dead, 1994).
According to Zaborskaitė, Parulskis should be discussed from “the perspective of
postmodernism” (2002: 28), which has also been noted in Geda’s poetry. She points that Parulskis
writes about present-day Lithuania “in crude, ironic words; here death is something that dominates
this sphere” (Zaborskaitė 2002: 28, tr. Stundžytė). Furthermore, Parulskis’ poetic style in general
has similarities to Geda’s poetry, in that it also contains some aspects of the postmodernism. In
Mitaitė’s words, his poems are “short and concise in which the common stylistic feature is the use
of crude aesthetics” (2001: 373, tr. Stundžytė). Braziūnas explains that Parulskis uses laconic
phrases, figurative and accurate language (2007). Stylistically, Bleizgys explains that “he
experiments and plays with line-breaks, for instance, he breaks a line in an unusual way
(syntactically unexpected) which arouses new meanings in readers’ mind, or on the contrary, makes
the line incomprehensible” (1996: 35-36, tr. Stundžytė). Moreover, Bleizgys points out that
Parulskis uses this technique “in the middle of a poem, leaving empty grammatical spaces between
words” (1996: 35-36, tr. Stundžytė). Like Geda, too, Parulskis avoids using punctuation to a great
extent (Mitaitė 2001: 374). Even more, Mitaitė notes that he seems to prefer unconventional forms
for his poems (2001: 374). As has been suggested by some critics, Parulskis manages to create a
certain rhythm mainly by using the repetition of sounds (Mitaitė 2001: 374; Zaborskaitė 2002: 27,
tr. Stundžytė; Bleizgys 1996: 35, tr. Stundžytė), while a unity of images is achieved through using
words that have corresponding connotations.
Thus each of these five poets, Henrikas Nagys, Sigitas Geda, Nijolė Miliauskaitė, Antanas
A. Jonynas and Sigitas Parulskis is formally innovative, though in different ways; many use
autobiographical elements in their poetry, although their themes are also individual. All of them are
considered important Lithuanian poets and the fact that some of their poems have been translated
shows that English translators agree with this evaluation.
3. FREE VERSE AND ITS TRANSLATION: THEORETICAL INTRODUCTION
Free verse is a modern form of poetry widely practiced among contemporary poets. The term is
constructed of two words, ‘free’ and ‘verse’, which denote its major features. The concept of free
verse is discussed in this section by considering definitions, commenting on formal and syntactic
features and briefly discussing problematic aspects for its translation.
In general, free verse may be defined as verse in which no regularly repeated patterns of
rhyme or fixed stress count are used. However, it is considered ‘free’ only in the sense that it does
not have the fixed rhythm, number of syllables and regular stress pattern which are present in
15
traditional metrical and rhymed verse. Indeed, free verse is most often defined in opposition to
metrical verse because it does not contain established metres or rhyme patterns, which have become
traditional forms in Western literature since the Middle Ages.
At this point, it is useful to define what is meant by metre, rhyme and rhythm in poetry.
According to Chris Baldick, “metre is the pattern of measured sound-units recurring more or less
regularly in lines of verse” (1990: 135). J. A. Cuddon puts the same idea in more technical terms by
referring to it as “the pattern of stressed and unstressed syllables in verse” (1991: 545). Both these
critics emphasise the fixed number of syllables in the line (Baldick 1990: 135; Cuddon 1991: 545).
Further, they distinguish a variety of patterns of metre that are identified according to the number of
stressed and unstressed syllables in each line. Baldick and Cuddon explain the technical
terminology for metrical verse by stating that the length of a metrical line is often expressed by the
number of feet it contains (Baldick 1990: 136; Cuddon 1991: 545). Therefore, Baldick and Cuddon
explain that “if the line contains two feet then it is called a dimeter, if three then trimester, if four –
tetrameter, if five – pentameter, if six – hexameter,” etc. (Baldick 1990: 136; Cuddon 1991: 545).
Another important aspect of the concept of metre which is stressed by Baldick and Cuddon is that
metrical patterns are rarely absolutely fixed and thus “are open to different kinds of variation”
(Baldick 1990: 136; Cuddon 1991: 545). Poets may choose to obey or break rules depending on
many factors.
A second concept that distinguishes free verse from metrical verse is rhyme. This concept is
defined similarly by Baldick and Cuddon as “the identity of sound” (Baldick 1990: 189), which is
“associated with the sense of music, of rhythm, and beat” (Cuddon 1991: 797). Baldick further
explains that rhyme usually occurs “at the ends of the verse lines” (1990: 189); and, as Cuddon
states, it “assists in the actual structure of verse that helps to organize the verse, simultaneously
opening and concluding the sense” (1991: 797). This notion is helpful while discussing free verse as
well since, though it does not keep to a regular rhyme, it may occasionally use some internal rhyme.
A third concept which has particular importance in the discussion of free verse is rhythm:
this can be identified, using Baldick’s general idea, as the principal “pattern of sounds” that is used
in a poem (1990: 190). Baldick and Cuddon define rhythm as the recurrence of equivalent beats at
more or less equal intervals (Baldick 1990: 190; Cuddon 1991: 798). In addition, Cuddon points out
that, traditionally, these patterns of sounds are based in English on the regular alteration of “stressed
or unstressed syllables” (Cuddon 1991: 798). An important idea which concerns rhythm in verse
and contributes to the understanding of how free verse differs from metrical verse is provided by
Baldick when he argues that “while metre involves the recurrence of measured sound units, rhythm
is a less clearly structured principle: one can refer to the unmeasured rhythms of non-metrical verse,
for example, free verse” (1990: 190).
16
To illustrate how traditional fixed metre functions, the poem “Loveliest of Trees” (1896) by
A. E. Housman (1859-1936) has been chosen for a brief analysis. This poem consists of three fourline stanzas with the rhyme scheme aabb. The first stanza reads as follows, with the stressed
syllables marked:
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide. (Housman 1920: 632, ll. 1-4; stressed syllables marked by the
author of this thesis)
The poem is written in iambic tetrameter, which requires that each line contains eight syllables,
with four iambic feet. Mostly it is regular, because out of four lines two consist of eight syllables,
while the first line has nine syllables and the fourth one has seven. As Baldick explains, an “iamb is
a metrical unit or foot of verse, having one unstressed syllable followed by one stressed syllable”
(1990: 105). Thus the second and third lines are regular, with each second syllable being stressed:
“Is hung with bloom along the bough, / And stands about the woodland ride” (ll. 2-3). Sometimes,
however, metrical verse contains variations of the number of stressed syllables, which is the case in
the first line. Baldick claims that iambic verse is rarely without any variations, pointing out that “it
may often begin with a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed syllable, which is called a
reversed foot” (1990: 105). In the first and the fourth lines, indeed, Housman chooses to reverse the
first foot, beginning with a stressed syllable: “Loveliest of trees”; “Wearing white.” Furthermore,
Housman’s poem has a fixed rhyme pattern, aabb, because, for example, in this stanza the first line
ends with the word “now” that rhymes with the word “bough,” while the third line ends with “ride,”
rhyming with the “tide” in “Eastertide”.
In contrast, as an example of free verse, the poem “The Red Wheelbarrow” (1923) by
William Carlos Williams (1883-1963) has been chosen. This poem has no regular metre or rhyme:
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
5
water
beside the white
17
chickens. (Williams 1983: 561; stressed syllables have been marked by the author of this
thesis)
When analysing the poem by applying the same criteria that have been used for metrical verse, what
immediately catches the reader’s eye is the irregular number of syllables in lines. Thus, the syllable
count for these lines is as follows: four, two, three, two, three, two, four, and two. However,
Williams uses another structure which does create a degree of regularity. The eight lines of his
poem are divided into four two-line stanzas, in which lines 1 and 7 contain four syllables, while
lines 3 and 5 contain three syllables; the rest of the lines contain two syllables. It means that the first
line of each part has two stressed syllables while each second line has only one stress: “so much
depends” (l. 1); “barrow” (l. 2). Though this kind of pattern creates a rhythm of a sort, there is no
fixed sequence of stressed and unstressed syllables; therefore, the poem does not have a traditional
metrical pattern, as appears in Housman’s poem.
Another observable feature of William’s poem is that all the lines are very short, with the
longest having only four syllables: “so much depends” (l. 1), while each second line has the same
number of syllables − two. Since the poem has neither a regular metrical pattern nor any rhyme
scheme, it fits into Baldick’s general statement that free verse is “a kind of poetry that does not
conform to any regular metre: the length of its lines is irregular, as is its use of rhyme – if any”
(1990: 88). Nevertheless, although the writers of free verse do not use strict syllabic patterns, they
may employ a loose syntactic parallelism, or choose to accentuate visual elements of the poem on
the page such as stanzaic segmentation. They may even use a set number of syllables, or other
fixed elements. In this case, the poem “The Red Wheelbarrow” has a visual effect on the reader
because of the different length of the lines, their brevity and their arrangement on the page. In
effect, each free-verse poem uses its own form and style: there are many poems in English written
in iambic tetrameter quatrains like Housman’s “Loveliest of Trees”, while Williams’ form for “The
Red Wheelbarrow” is unique.
It is important to identify those elements of form and style that are purposefully selected
while creating a specific free-verse poem. Accordingly, the critics point out that, although the term
free verse does imply a sense of irregularity, this does not mean that a free-verse poem is formless
or has no sense of rhythm or any regular pattern (Wesling and Bollobás 1994: 96-98; Baldick 1990:
88-89; Abrams 1999: 105). As Baldick explains, “instead of a regular metrical pattern it [free verse]
uses more flexible cadences or rhythmic groupings, sometimes supported by anaphora and other
devices of repetition” (1990: 88). Similarly, according to Wesling and Bollobás, the means for
achieving a feeling of “regularity” and “natural flow” include the use of various devices that also
appear in rhymed verses, such as “repetition”, “parallelism” and “sound patterns”, as well as “the
18
use of formal arrangements” on the page to create a particular visual effect (1994: 96-97). All these
common features are referred to in Abrams’ definition of free verse, in which he explains that
“conspicuous visual cues—the variable positioning, spacing, and length of words, phrases, and
lines—to control pace, pause, and emphasis in the reading” (1999: 106) are used to create a degree
of regularity in free verse.
Therefore, it can be asserted that free-verse rhythms are based on the poet’s individual use of
patterned elements such as sound, words, phrases, sentences, and paragraphs, rather than on a fixed
number of metrical units per line. Here it is again worth quoting Abrams’ words that free verse is
written in “rhythmic pattern [in which lines are] not organised into a regular metrical form […] has
irregular line lengths, and either lacks rhyme or else uses it only sporadically” (1999: 105-106).
Similarly, Wesling and Bollobás emphasise this contrastive feature by arguing that “free verse is
distinguished from meter by the lack of a structuring grid based on counting of linguistic units
and/or position of linguistic features” (1994: 96).
Another significant feature of free verse which has been referred to is that it uses the
positioning of words on the page. Wesling and Bollobás indicate that “some free verse uses visual
forms such as the disposition of the poem across the page in representational design” (1994: 98);
this creates a sense of patterning, too, replacing that provided by regular metre and rhyme.
Therefore, several critics agree that it would be inaccurate to state that free verse has no
internal structure or patterning; instead, it uses more flexible linguistic combinations and has an
open form which allows writers to create patterns of their own (Cuddon 1991: 680; Baldick 1990:
88; Bristow 1991: 105). According to Wesling and Bollobás, “much free verse is, however, as
regular as much metrical verse; the difference is that in free verse, regularity is based on linguistic
or textual features that are less prominent” (1994: 97). The primary ones are variations in line
length, the construction of visual unit, stanza patterns, line-breaks, parallelism, sound patterning and
repetition which, as Wesling and Bollobás state, “create prosodic regularity” (1994: 97).
In this way, free verse uses devices of its own to create the kind of rhythm, musicality and
flow that readers associate with the broad genre of poetry. Wesling and Bollobás, Abrams, and
Baldick agree that free verse relies heavily on various line lengths and grammatical breaks, uses
visual cues and different stanza patterns and contains a good deal of repetition, sound patterns and
parallelism (Wesling and Bollobás 1994: 97; Abrams 1999: 106; Baldick 1990: 88). These features
may be divided into two broad categories: formal and syntactic. The term ‘formal’, in this paper, is
considered in Frederick Garber’s words as “a mode of arrangement of the poem” (1994: 93). A
more precise explanation is given by Eleanor Berry, who considers it “the way textual materials are
organized so as to create shape [of the text]” (1994: 94). The most prominent formal features used
in free verse which are examined in the analysis of the poems and their translations in this paper are
19

layout (stanzaic pattern, irregular line length, spacing, variable positioning or design)

types of alliteration
These allow the poet to create a kind of regularity, as well as to support or suggest the meaning of a
poem. The outstanding syntactic features of free verse include

line-breaks

repetition
These characteristics are discussed in more detail in Section 4, where concrete instances of these
elements will be examined in the Lithuanian poems and their translations.
Given the complexity of formal elements that poetry contains, it is not surprising that, on
the whole, the translation of poetry is considered one of the most challenging forms of literary
translation. In his article “Problems in Translating Poetry,” Sugeng Hariyanto names aesthetics as
one of the problematic areas that the translator faces while translating a poem (2006). He believes
that “aesthetic values are conveyed in word order and sounds” so that if the translator does not
follow these he or she “distorts the beauty of the original poem” (Hariyanto 2006). Another problem
that Hariyanto notes in the translation of poetry that concerns free-verse translation in particular is
the maintenance of poetic structure (2006). What he means by this is “the shape and the balance of
individual sentence or of each line” (Hariyanto 2006). Each free-verse poem has its own structure
on the page which, for example, is created by the shape of stanzas or their division, or by the length
of lines and by spacing. Thus, in free-verse translation the translator has to determine which
features of the original poem have priority and only then to translate the poem focusing on these
values.
Sachi Ketkar states that the translator can choose several ways to translate poetry, for
instance, either to be faithful to the original text or to foreignise it and to create a kind of
interpretation of the original poem (2007). Lawrence Venuti and Burton Raffel argue that only a
translator with “correct taste” (Venuti 2002: 73) can translate a poem; Venuti believes that “none
but a poet can translate a poet” (2002: 73) and “in order to translate poetry one has to be a poet”
(Raffel 1988: 102). Whether this is really true or not, still the use of this argument shows that these
critics believe that what matters in translating poetry are both the aesthetic level and the poetic
form.
In general, thus, although translating free verse does not create problems like the
transference of a similar metrical pattern or the preservation of rhyme patterns, it does include many
other stylistic elements that are as difficult to retain in the target text as those of metrical or rhymed
verse. Furthermore, Fabian Gudas and Michael Davidson point out the greater importance of form
in free verse than in metrical verse (1994: 336). They explain that “there should be a direct
relationship between the amount of space and the length of pause, in that space can fulfill such
20
expressive, and rhetorical functions as distance and silence, signaling emotion too great for words”
(Gudas and Davidson 1994: 336).
Therefore, free-verse poets can exploit these possibilities
through the arrangement of a text on the page. In such cases, form allows poets to express
themselves distinctively from content, since content deals with what the author says, which may
differ from his or her unspoken implications. Finally, each free-verse poem contains different
linguistic and textual elements as well as visual cues and forms which contribute to the overall
meaning of the poem. Accordingly, translators have to be aware of the relevant features of free
verse so that, as far as possible, they do not distort the poetic style of a specific poem and preserve
as many of the interpretations implied by the poet as is possible.
4. SYNTACTIC AND FORMAL FEATURES IN LITHUANIAN FREE-VERSE
POEMS
This section provides theoretical insights into some of the most common syntactic and formal
features that are used by free-verse poets to create an individual style. Sub-section 4.1 considers the
categorisation of line-breaks as a syntactic feature of free verse, providing specific examples for
each category. Then Sub-section 4.2 presents Kinga Klaudy and Krisztina Karoly’s system of
repetition where its kinds and functions are defined and exemplified. The third sub-section focuses
on the formal characteristics of free-verse poems and is divided into two parts, where Sub-section
4.3.1 deals with how poets use layout for specific visual effects, while Sub-section 4.3.2
concentrates on the importance of alliteration as a formal device, for example, to achieve emphasis
and to create musicality in a poem.
4.1 Ways of Categorising and Analysing Line-breaks as a Syntactic Feature of Free Verse
One of the prominent syntactical features in free verse is the line-break. Since free verse does not
have a meter, fixed rhyme, or regular rhythm, line-breaks are mainly used to create a deliberate
system for reading a free-verse poem. Along with other syntactical characteristics in free-verse
poems, line-breaks allow poets to add extra meaning to a whole line because the way it is split has
an impact on the way it is read and understood by the reader. However, the main effect that linebreaks produce is a sense of regularity: the line can be broken in a particular place to make the
whole poem sound more or less rhythmical. This subsection provides a categorisation of line-breaks
with a brief analysis of examples to illustrate their emotional or stylistic function.
T. V. F. Brogan indicates that, according to the way a line ends, two major categories of
line-break can be distinguished: “end-stopped” and “run-on lines” (1994: 159). An end-stopped
21
line, in Brogan’s words, appears if “line units regularly align with sense units, for example, (…) a
couplet ends the first line at a major syntactic break and the second at a full stop (sentence end)”
(1994: 159). Usually end-stopped lines are closed with a full stop or suspension points, which is
known as enjambment (Brogan 1994: 159). James H. Pickering and Jeffrey D. Hoeper provide a
more concrete definition, explaining that “an end-stopped line ends with a sentence or with a full
stop and together with normal syntactical break-offs may be called a natural place of breaking a
line” (1994: 745). This means that usually a line does not end with a full stop but rather in a way
that is called a natural way of breaking a line because it does not deviate from syntax.
A good example of an end-stopped line can be seen in Henrikas Nagys’ poem “Nojaus
arkos” (1960: 29) (“Noah’s ark”): “Mes esam žvėrys, šventraštyje neminėti.” (l. 16); “We are the
beasts the Scriptures do not mention.” (Nagys 1960, tr. Zdanys 1978: 141). As is indicated, the line
ends with a full stop which here is not only a syntactical marker to signal closure of sentence and
the line, but it also corresponds with a logically completed thought. In Brogan’s words, “the freeverse line-break affects both rhythm and intonation; [when] an illogical counter-rhythm [is turned]
into the logical rhythm of syntax” (Brogan 1994: 160). This choice of a line-break allows the poet
to facilitate the reading of a free-verse poem.
However, very commonly, line-breaks are run-on lines which, as Alison Allexander and
her colleagues. suggest, appear when “the thrust of the incomplete sentence carries on over the end
of the verse line” (1983: 861). Ismail El-Naggar provides a more simple explanation that run-one
lines “can be read as if a single sentence [which] are related in respect of meaning and become clear
only after reading all the lines of a poem” (2003). In other words, if a line does not end with a
natural syntactic break and its idea forces the reader to proceed to further lines, it is called a run-on
line. A. R. Ammons’ poem “Small Song” illustrates this idea:
The reeds give
way to the
wind and give
the wind away (Ammons 1990: 43; underlining added by the author of this thesis)
The poem is a single sentence that is split up into four lines and two stanzas. The first three lines
end in run-on lines; each of them does not convey a complete meaning. Indeed, the meaning
becomes unambiguous only after the final line is read.
Analysing the example more closely, it shows how run-one lines can be further subdivided
into normal syntactical line-breaks and unnatural syntactical line-breaks. Thus, if a line is broken in
a way which interrupts syntax, but does not violate logical and grammatical sense, then it can be
considered a normal syntactical line-break, while if the breaking of a line is unnatural because it
deviates from grammatical and logical norms, then this type of run-on line can be called an
22
unnatural syntactical line-break, as in the separation of an article from its noun or the splitting of a
word. For example, in A. R. Ammons’ poem “Small Song” the first line is a normal syntactical linebreak, although it disrupts the complete syntax: “give / way” is a verbal phrase in which a verb is
split from the noun; grammatically it is acceptable, even though the thought is not complete.
However, the second line shows an unnatural syntactical line-break: the article “the” is split from its
noun “wind”, which is even placed in another stanza.
As Marjorie Perloff notes, when “the normal syntactic chain of the poem is broken” (1998),
the writer calls the reader’s attention to particular words that carry more emphasis than others and
are emotionally or semantically loaded (1998). Moreover, if the line is not end-stopped, its purpose
can be to speed up the reading of a poem or to make pauses in places where normally they would
not occur. Furthermore, while end-stopped lines make a poem sound as natural as possible, run-on
lines, and especially those that are split against logical and grammatical norms, remind readers of
the writer’s control over the text, for readers have to make pauses in unusual places and so become
aware of its specific style. These types of line-breaks are common in both free verse and more
traditional kinds of poetry. However, they carry more weight in free verse, where they are used
more radically and are not offset by rhyme.
4.2 Kinga Klaudy and Krisztina Karoly’s System for Kinds and Functions of Repetition
One of the common stylistic feature of free verse is repetition which, in general, can be defined as
the recurrence of a word, phrase or line in a poem (Shapiro 1994: 249). There are several types of
repetition and, as Marianne Shapiro indicates, most of it is partial, while complete repetition is less
common in literary texts (1994: 249). The further discussion in this sub-section focuses on types of
repetition according to Kinga Klaudy and Krisztina Károly’s (2000) taxonomy of lexical repetition.
To make the discussion more comprehensible, a table of their types of repetition is provided, with
examples that have been created by the author of this paper. The discussion also includes some
explanation of how repetition can function in a text.
There have been many theoretical discussions of lexical repetition in the literary text;
however, a systemic model of repetition has been prepared by Michael Hoey (1992) who
distinguishes two main types of repetition: “lexical repetition (simple or complex) and paraphrase
(simple or complex)” (Hoey in Klaudy and Károly 2000: 145). Although Hoey’s model is a useful
one, Kinga Klaudy and Krisztina Károly have proposed a more detailed analytical version of his
model, which is very helpful in discussing actual instances of repetition in a text. Table 1 illustrates
the categories of repetition which they identify.
23
Table 1 Kinga Klaudy and Krisztina Károly‘s Categories of Repetition (2000)
Categories
Examples (examples are created by Irma Stundžytė)
LEXICAL RELATIONS
Simple
Derived
I. Same-unit repetition
He went into the night. It
was the night before
Christmas.
A note is hanging on the
outside door, which reads
“Please note the bookstore will
be closed on Monday.”
She concealed her inner
feelings from the teacher, but
he could see that internal
rage in her eyes.
John is always jealous of his
best friend. Unfortunately, his
envy can destroy their
friendship.
3. opposites
She seems very remote,
though we used to be very
close.
She rests all day and so will
not finish her work today.
4. hyponymy
They took all the furniture to a new house. Only the old-
1. repetition
II. Different-unit repetition
2. synonymy
fashioned table was left for me.
5. metonymy
TEXT-BOUND
RELATIONS
6. Instantial relations
I knew it was a woman because I found lipstick on a pillow.
His wife was guilty. Mary always blinks when she is lying.
(equivalence)
He told us about his little girl. Her name was Susan.
(naming)
In general, Klaudy and Károly point out that lexical repetition in its primary form appears in a text
when “a lexical unit, as a cohesive relation, is repeated in exactly the same form or with inflectional
or derivational change” (2000: 146). However, in addition, they broaden the idea of repetition by
claiming that “the content of the unit can be totally or partially repeated through a semantically
related lexical unit, such as a synonym, opposite, hyponym, and metonymy” (Klaudy and Károly
2000: 146). Accordingly, they distinguish two general categories of repetition: “lexical relations”
and “text-bound relations” (Klaudy and Károly 2000: 146). Both of these types can be “simple” or
“derived” (Klaudy and Károly 2000: 146), as is indicated in Table 1.
Klaudy and Károly explain that “the recurrence of the same lexical unit with possible
inflectional difference [is called] simple same-unit repetition” (2000: 146). For example, in the two
sentences, “He went into the night. It was the night before Christmas,” the word “night” appears in
both without any change in form (Example 1). Meanwhile, Klaudy and Károly writes that derived
same-unit repetition “refers to the appearance of an identical root morpheme, but with possible
24
derivational difference, for instance, zero derivation, phonological change, and word class change”
(2000: 146). Thus, as can be seen in Example 1, sentences like “A note is hanging on the outside
door, which reads ‘Please note the bookstore will be closed on Monday,’” the word “note” is a noun
in the first statement, while in the second it is a verb. This is an example of zero derivation because
the repeated words have the identical root and differ only in word class.
Different-unit repetition can be further subdivided into four classes: synonymy, opposites,
hyponymy and metonymy. Only the first two classes, synonymy and opposites, are distinguished as
simple or derived: for example, “She concealed her inner feelings from the teacher, but he could see
that internal rage in her eyes” (Example 2). These sentences include words “inner” and “internal”
that are considered near synonyms and can be used interchangeably, though one may be more
common in certain contexts than in others. In contrast to this lexical repetition, the example “She
seems very remote, though we used to be very close” (Example 3) illustrates a different unit
repetition: here the words “remote” and “close” are opposites, but they are semantically linked and
appear as a cohesive device in this sentence.
An example of hyponymy is “They took all the furniture to a new house. Only the oldfashioned table was left for me” (Example 4), where the word “furniture” is a superordinate (a
general word that represents a class of similar things) and the word “table” is a hyponym because it
is a specific member of the broader class of furniture. Metonymy, on the other hand, can be seen as
a kind of repetition with a ‘part for the whole’ relation; thus, in Example 5 “lipstick” denotes “a
woman” because its use is traditionally associated with women, not men.
Text-bound relations is a category of repetition which, as Klaudy and Károly point out,
“refers to Hasan’s (1984) category of instantial relations [that] include text-bound relations [which
he defines] as semantic relations” (2000: 146). Thus, the link or bond that is created in a particular
text has its meaning only within that text: for instance, “His wife was guilty. Mary always blinks
when she is lying” (Example 6). Here the words “wife” and “Mary” are semantically related just in
this particular text; in another text, the word “wife” would not mean “Mary.” Basically, this kind of
repetition works with names and pronouns.
In general, examples of repetition can be found in very old forms of poetic texts. On the
one hand, its use is pragmatic, since, in oral cultures, its use helped people to comprehend and
memorise texts. Later, with the widespread use of writing, this tradition became less obligatory,
though it has never been abandoned, expecially in texts that are presented orally, including speeches
and poetry. Therefore, free verse contains a good deal of repetition, whose main function is, most
often, to create a rhythmic pattern which makes a poem sound fluent. Shapiro contributes to this
idea when she states that repetition signals to readers a possible rhythmic pattern of repeated lines
[or units] within a poem (1994: 250). Moreover, she adds that the systematic use of repetition in
25
free verse creates continuity in a poem, because “the experience of the first occurrence is
continuously maintained in the present in each subsequent recurrence” (Shapiro 1994: 250). This
aspect is very important in free-verse poems, where the absence of fixed metre or regular rhyme
may make a poem sound less coherent and relations between words and ideas become looser. Thus,
repetition allows the free-verse poet to achieve regularity and even to create unity in the whole
poem.
Shapiro indicates another important idea about repetition when she states that “various
aspects of form all involve some kind of recurrence of equivalent elements, differing only in what
linguistic elements are repeated” (1994: 248). She notes that these repetitions are given different
names so that, for instance, “the recurrence of syntactic elements is called parallelism, the
recurrence of stress and quantity is called metre” (Shapiro 1994: 248). Though free verse does not
use fixed metres, still Shapiro provides a useful idea for this thesis by stating that “recurrence of
vocalic and consonantal sounds is, variously, alliteration, assonance, or consonance” (1994: 249), a
patterning which is particularly observable in free-verse poems.
As additional functions of repetition, Shapiro suggests “the progression and intensification
of thought” (1994: 249). Indeed, one of the most important functions that any kind of lexical
repetition performs is emphasis or semantic reinforcement. For instance, if a line or a stanza
contains two words that are the same or very similar in a semantic sense, this often indicates that the
poet wants to stress this word as particularly meaningful. One of the most extensive uses of
repetition for emphasis and semantic cohesion can be noted in religious texts: an excellent ancient
source is the Bible. Here the Psalms in the Old Testament can be taken as examples of the extensive
use of repetition, which in translation are close to free verse in their form. An instance of same-unit
repetition is found, for example, in the opening lines of Psalm 29, “God’s Majesty in the Storm”:
Give to the LORD, you sons of God, 1
give to the LORD glory and praise,
Give to the LORD the glory due his name;
adore the LORD in holy attire.
2
In this first stanza, the most evident same-unit repetition is of the word “Lord,” which is even
orthographically highlighted in the edition of the Bible used. This word appears four times and is
used as a simple repetition. However, the words “glory” (noun), “praise” (noun) and “adore” (verb)
are examples of a derived, synonymous repetition, though the word “glory” appears two times and
thus is a simple same-unit repetition as well. Furthermore, the first line contains a different-unit
repetition: the word “God” is a synonym of the word “Lord.” Even more, there is an instance of a
text-bound relation, where the possessive pronoun “his” refers back to the word “Lord” (l. 2). A
26
similar example of lexical repetition can be found in line 6 of Psalm 30, “Thanksgiving for
Deliverance from Death”:
For his anger lasts but a moment:
a lifetime, his good will.
At nightfall, weeping enters in,
but with the dawn, rejoicing.
This passage is full of lexical repetition of opposites: “anger” and “good will,” “a moment” and “a
lifetime,” “nightfall” and “dawn,” and “weeping” and “rejoicing.” Such an extensive use of binary
oppositions creates a specific kind of rhythm and musicality while listening to or reading these
lines. Shapiro interestingly notes that “in free verse the mere fact of a repeated lineation itself is a
form of repetition that tells the reader to expect rhythm and to pace the reading of the poem so as to
realise, as prominently as possible, the rhythmic parallelism of successive lines” (Shapiro 1994:
250). This function is, to a certain extent, the most often intended by poets so that translators have
to be aware of its importance.
Although there are a number of approaches to lexical repetition in a literary text, Kinga
Klaudy and Krisztina Károly’s categorization has been chosen as an excellent recent pragmatic
model that is easily applicable to the analysis of free-verse poems. This categorization allows
verifying whether translations maintain the same kind and number of lexical repetitions as appear in
the original poem.
4.3
Formal Characteristics of Free-Verse Poems
Free verse, as has been stated in Section 3, lacks the regular system of rhyme, rhythm and fixed
metre that is used in a wide variety of traditional poetic forms. The concept of free verse does not
include any specific form at all, contrary to, for instance, sonnets, limericks or ballads, which have
predetermined forms. Nonetheless, free verse does have features of its own. This sub-section deals
with two formal characteristics that are of great importance in the analysis of free verse. In Subsection 4.3.1, the discussion of the first characteristic, layout, is mainly concerned with its visual
effect which conveys additional meanings to readers. Sub-section 4.3.2 analyses the importance of
sound patterns that are usually deliberately used by free-verse poets instead of traditional patterns
such as rhyme and metre in order to make a poem sound rhythmic and melodious.
27
4.3.1 The Purpose of Layout in Free-Verse Poems: Visual Effects
The way a poem is designed and located on a page became important after the first written poems
appeared. The concept layout can be considered as part of the broader term form. As Chris Baldick
and Frederick Garber indicate, the latter term has a variety of meanings; the ones that are relevant to
this discussion refer to form as “the structure or unifying principle of design” (Baldick 1990: 86), or
a “mode of arrangement of the text; that is, the way textual materials are organised so as to create
shape” (Garber 1994: 94). In addition, Baldick explains that “when speaking of a work’s formal
properties, critics usually refer to its structural design and patterning” (1990: 86). Though form does
not always refer to the visual appearance of a poem on a page, this idea is present in the critics’
discussion. Thus, for the analysis of free verse, it is necessary to consider the functions that a
particular form, or, more precisely, the layout, serves for readers when they open a book and see a
free-verse poem on the page.
According to Baldick, literary criticism differentiates two principal forms that are used in
poetry; these are “organic form” and “mechanic or conventional form” (1990: 86). Baldick explains
that an “organic form is said to evolve from within the developing work, [while a] mechanic form is
imposed as a predetermined design” (1990: 86). Good examples of mechanic or conventional forms
include the sonnet, ballade and ode that have a definite structure. The opposite of a conventional
form is an organic form: this can be viewed a non-standard, irregular or unconventional form which
has been used by Western poets mostly since the beginning of the 20th century and is particularly
observable in free verse. The latter form, according to Baldick’s definition, “follows its own inner
logic according to the emotion or thought expressed” (1990: 86). Ocassionally, it can take its shape
from the content of the poem itself and convey some additional emphasis to the words. For instance,
the poem “The Altar” by George Herbert (1593-1633) has the shape of an altar which re-inforces
the overall meaning of the poem; however, this poem has regular rhyme and metre.
According to M. H. Abrams, free verse, as an organic form, uses such formal features as
stanza patterns, irregular line length and visual cues to create a kind of regularity and to unify the
overall meaning of a poem (1999: 106). In general, all these formal features are the major
components of layout: the way words are arranged in lines, lines arranged in stanzas, and stanzas or
lines arranged on a page. An important aspect in the discussion of layout is whether a poem is split
into stanzas or not. Edward R. Weismiller defines stanza as “a group of lines, visually distinguished
from other groups of lines by white space” (1994: 289). Weismiller also points out that almost all
types of poetry vary in their use of stanzaic patterns (1994: 289-290), with free verse being no
exception. He further explains that “splitting a poem into stanzas provides melody” (Weismiller
1994: 290): the stanzaic divisions create a sense of rhythm.
28
Furthermore, in certain cases, Eleanor Berry explains that “free verse [can] create tight
syntactic and semantic connections [that] typically extend across stanza boundaries by arranging
lines in sight-stanzas” (1994: 336). A sight-stanza, for instance, may begin not at the margin, but in
the middle of a page. Sigitas Geda’s poem “Pavasaris tėvo sode” (Table 1) is a good example of this
pattern. If poets decide to arrange their free-verse poems into sight-stanzas, they not only achieve
lexical and syntactical unity but also, in Barry’s words, “score for performance” (1994: 336). This
means that poets make their stanzaic division to direct the readers in pauses.
Stanzas, however, are only one way of creating organic form. Weismiller suggests the
interesting idea that “some free-verse poems are similar to conversation structure because we do not
speak in rhyme” and do not use any stanzaic patterns (1994: 291). As Abrams states, in addition to
stanzaic patterns, free verse uses various other “visual cues” (1999: 106), while Berry refers to the
length of words or lines, spacing, the variable positioning of words or lines, and white space (1994:
336). A good example of how free verse play with the tradition of stanzas is Sigitas Geda’s freeverse poem “Pavasaris tėvo sode,” translated by Laima Sruoginis as “Spring: Father’s Orchard”
(1997: 66-67).
Table 1
“Pavasaris tėvo sode” (LT)
(Geda 1988: 20)
skaito
angelas
mano
atverstą
knygą 5
po lapą
po skiemenį
melsvą
kas ją
varto 10
šiam
vėjy
tarp tėvo
baltų
obelų 15
kas kad
metai
man trys
aš jau
miręs 20
Visually this poem has an unusual layout with variable positioning of lines on the page; some lines
are indented, creating a kind of visual allusion to stanzaic patterns (sight stanzas). The poet does not
use any punctuation marks or spacing between lines to signal pauses. The majority of words are one
or two syllables, with only a small number having three syllables, so that Geda manipulates the
reading pace through the length of words and lines. In addition, the indentation of some lines
29
juxtaposes images because it creates a pause before the beginning of another line; for instance, “po
lapą / po skiemenį” (“page by page / each blue syllable”) which is a kind of listing, going from
general to specific: “lapą” (page) to “skiemenį” (syllable). As this example indicates, irregular linelengths are another way of achieving an individual layout in free verse.
Wesling and Bollobás, along with Abrams, agree in distinguishing two types of free-verse
lines: “shorter-lined” and “longer-lined” verses (Wesling and Bollobás 1994: 97; Abrams 1999:
107). Wesling and Bollobás claim that the length of lines is an important device for creating the
over-all form of a poem as well as regulating the flow of the poem (1994: 97). They explain that “a
short-lined free verse poem contains only one word or unit, or two, three words or units within a
line, the intention of which is either to slow or to speed the reading of a poem” (Wesling and
Bollobás 1994: 97). Another poem by Geda, “Kryžius, reiškiantis mirtį” (“The Cross, Meaning
Death”), translated by Jonas Zdanys, provides a further example of extremely short lines.
Table 2
“Kryžius, reiškiantis mirtį” (LT)
(Geda 1988: 84)
lietuviai
niekaip
negalėjo
priimt
Kristaus 5
mokslo
kadangi
jis
liepė
gulti 10
ant
moterų
ir
nukryžiuoti
o
15
baltai
paprastai
įsigydavo
sau
palikuonių 20
pasisodinę
jas
ant
žirgų
pakeliui 25
į karą
This Lithuanian free-verse poem is made up of 26 lines in which all, except the last line, contain
only a single word, while as many as seven of these lines have only one syllable. The layout of the
poem requires a vertical, rather than the usual horizontal, reading of lines. The purpose of such a
structure, as Wesling and Bollobás, as well as Abrams, state is to slow down the reading of a poem
30
and force readers to be more focused on isolated words (Wesling and Bollobás 1994: 97; Abrams
1999: 106). It could also be pointed out that a vertical arrangement of lines disturbs readers’ eyes
because in Western texts such a layout of words is unusual.
In contrast to extremely short lines, very long lines may be found in free-verse poems as
well. When the line length becomes similar to that of a prose-text line, the reading becomes
extremely horizontal, going from the left to the right side of the page. An example of a layout that
compels an extreme horizontal reading is the poem “Cavalry Crossing a Ford” (1865) by Walt
Whitman (1819-1892).
Table 3
“Cavalry Crossing a Ford” (EN)
(Whitman 1994: 903)
A line in long array where they wind betwixt green islands, 1
They take a serpentine course, their arms flash in the sun—hark to the music clank,
Behold the silvery river; in it the splashing horses loitering stop to drink,
Behold the brown-faced men, each group, each person a picture, the negligent rest on the saddles,
Some emerge on the opposite bank, others are just entering the ford—while, 5
Scarlet and blue and snowy white,
The guidon flags flutter gayly in the wind.
At first glance, this poem looks like a piece of prose because it seems to be written as a paragraph.
According to punctuation, the whole poem consists of two very loosely punctuated sentences, of
which the longest line has 16 words (l. 4), while the shortest contains six words (l. 6). Such long
lines do not require emphasis on each word as in Geda’s poem. Though the poem does not have any
definite meter, it does have a rhythm which is even more audible in the long lines.
A final important formal feature of layout is the use of visual cues, the variable positioning
of words, phrases, and lines, and spacing between words, lines and stanzas. According to Abrams,
visual form starts with “the disposition of the poem across the page” (Abrams 1999: 107). Berry
suggests that even “the white space may be as important as the blank print to express emotion—as
an image of pause, disjunction, the silence that surrounds and spaces the text” (Berry 1994: 336337), while Wesling and Bollobás feel visual cues signal emotion that cannot be expressed in words
or “juxtapose images” within the poem (Wesling and Bollobas 1994: 98). Examples of such visual
cues will be discussed in Sub-section 5.2.2.
In general, free verse uses various formal features to create a pattern in a poem or/and to
control reading pace, emphasis and pausing of the poem by deliberately violating the standard
31
structuring of verse lines. Thus, formal features are an important part of free verse, even though the
writer of free verse has more freedom of choice than the writer of, for example, a sonnet or haiku.
4.3.2 The Importance of Alliteration in Free-Verse Poems
A central feature used by free-verse poets in their works is the sound pattern. T. V. F. Brogan states
that “sound patterning often highlights a sequence of key terms central to the thematic progression
of the poem” (1994: 283). This sub-section focuses on one major type of sound patterning,
alliteration, providing a table of categories and discussing some examples.
The first concept associated with the use of sound patterns in verse is musicality. In
general, Kirsten Malmkjaer states that “poetry […] explicitly invites attention to virtual sound, and
poetry is in any case often written with a special eye to the sound effects that may be achieved at
readings” (2005: 70). Since free verse has no regular metrical pattern and does not use rhyme or
uses it sparingly and irregularly, it is the combination of sounds which creates musicality in a freeverse poem. According to James H. Pickering and Jeffrey D. Hoeper, “such sounds as ‘f, v, th, sh’
are gentle sounds and produce soft articulation, [whereas] sounds like ‘p, b, d, k, t’ echo more
harshness” (1994: 753). Similarly, Brogan suggests that a poem’s sounds may express harmony and
melodiousness or dissonance (1994: 285). Moreover, Ismail El-Naggar believes that in poems
“sometimes, music becomes more important that the meaning of lexical units” (2003).
One of the key sound devices to create a specific kind of musicality is alliteration, which is
also the most common sound pattern in free verse. Brogan calls it “a scheme [that] organises,
highlights, and intensifies meaning in all verbal strings (1994: 283, 285). If one looks at literary
criticism, the main difference among existing definitions of alliteration is the approach to the
positioning of sounds within a line. Therefore, Chris Baldick, J. A. Cuddon, Percy G. Adams, and
M. H. Abrams explain alliteration as the repetition of the same sound which is an initial consonant
of nearby words (Baldick 1990: 5; Cuddon 1991: 25; Adams 1994: 12; Abrams 1999: 8). Therefore,
these scholars identify alliteration as appearing only in those places where a consonant recurs at the
beginning of a word or when a stressed syllable is repeated within a word. However, Edwin J.
Barton and Glenda A. Hudson argue that the term alliteration should not be limited to just initial
sounds of words or syllables, but rather extended into a broader sense; they suggest that the
recurrence of the same sound at the beginning, middle, or even at the end of words should be
regarded as alliteration as well (2004: 8-9). The further analysis in this thesis follows Barton and
Hudson’s more liberal notion of alliteration.
Abrams, Baldick, and Barton and Hudson all differentiate between two major types of
alliteration: consonance and assonance (Baldick 1990: 5; Abrams 1999: 8-9; Barton and Hudson
32
2004: 8-9). Accordingly, they describe consonance as the repetition of a sequence of the same
consonant sounds, while assonance is the repetition of identical or similar vowel sounds (Baldick
1990: 5; Abrams 1999: 8-9; Barton and Hudson 2004: 8-9).
In a translation, it is unlikely that exactly the same sound can be repeated in the same place.
Therefore, for this thesis alliteration is also categorised according its effect (the strongest, strong,
weaker, weak), and as to whether it is maintained in the same place in the translation or with some
variations. The table below illustrates categories of alliteration created by the author of this thesis.
Table 1 Categorisation of Alliteration Patterns
Effect
Categories
I. SEMANTIC ALLITERATION:
Strongest
1. Same-word alliteration in the
same line (eg. cloud … cloud )
Strong
2. Same-word alliteration in
different lines (eg. cloud …/ … cloud)
Weaker
3. Different-word alliteration in the same line
(eg. clear … cloud)
4. Different-word alliteration in different lines
(eg. clear …/ … cloud)
II. PHONETIC ALLITERATION:
Weak
Strongest
1. Initial letter of word or syllable alliteration in words that
follow each other (eg. a bad boy carries a big bag)
Strong
2. Internal alliteration within the same line
(eg. The bag is big )
3. Internal alliteration in different lines (eg. The boy is good/
And brings a big apple.
4. External alliteration in words that follow each other
(eg. I hold a bird)
Weaker
Weak
A more detailed analysis of these categories together with examples is provided in Sub-section
5.2.3. Nevertheless, it is interesting first to present what can be called a general tendency in the use
of alliteration by looking at the amount of repetition of sounds in free-verse texts and identifying
some categories of alliteration patterns. For this purpose, first the poem “Vasaros pavakarys” (2001)
(“Summer Evening”) by Antanas A. Jonynas, translated by Jonas Zdanys in cooperation with
Antanas Danielius and Craig Czury, has been chosen. The instances of alliteration are emphasised
by the author of this thesis in Table 2.
33
Table 2 Example of Consonant Alliteration
“Vasaros pavakarys” (LT)
(Jonynas 2002: 34)
Žiogai mažytėm pašėlusiom žirklėmis
įnirtingai kerpa peizažą
žolėje ant kranto numesti suskeldėję irklai
už upės gagena besiganančios žąsys
beržo žieve ropinėja apkvaitusios skruzdės
vakarop saulė ima garuoti
subridusios nendrės kažką nesuprantamai
kuždasi
moteris tempia per pievą žiogų prišienautą
karutį
nieko nieko man tavo vardas neprimena
visą dieną tavęs nepaminėjau nė karto
tuoj danguje prasidės saulėlydžio Cinema
tu iškirpta iš kadro
Once certain letters are put in bold, it is clear visually that this free-verse poem contains a good deal
of alliteration, mainly of certain consonant sounds. Table 3 presents the results of counting
consonant sounds that reappear in various positions in words and which are used throughout the
poem.
Table 3 Types and Number of Alliterated Sounds
Alliterated
consonant sounds
‘g’
Types of Sounds
plosive
Number of Occurrences
in the Poem
7
‘d’
plosive
12
‘p’
plosive
15
‘k’
plosive
17
‘š’
fricative
4
‘ž ’
fricative
13
‘s’
fricative
29
The figures in the table show that the total number of frequently recurring plosives is 51 in the
poem, while the number of recurring fricatives is 46. Such an extensive use of these consonant
34
sounds has to have a particular auditory effect. Since the poem is called “Vasaros pavakarys”
(“Summer Evening”), the title itself evokes all kinds of images that here are mainly auditory and the
chosen vocabulary indicates the poet’s intention to imitate the sounds as well as sights of nature: the
sound that is produced while pronouncing fricatives is similar to the humming and rustle suggested
by words like ‘žiogas,’ ‘žąsys,’ ‘skruzdės,’ and ‘kuždasi.’ In general, the extensive use of
alliteration emphasizes the semantic meaning of the poem and gives richness and musical quality to
its language.
The recurrence of consonant sounds is not the only type of alliteration: free verse uses a
good deal of the repetition of vowel sounds as well. Several lines from the poem “Strėlė danguje”
(1969) (“Arrow in the Sky”) by Henrikas Radauskas (1910-1970) may be taken as an example that
illustrates the use of assonance. The most interesting instances of assonance alliteration are put in
bold.
Table 4 The Example of Assonance Alliteration
“Strėlė danguje” (LT)
(Radauskas 1999: 25, ll. 15-18)
Paleido naktį į galingą dangų
15
Prašyt pagalbos, bet, neradus Dievo, 16
Strėlė klajoja tarp šaltų žvaigždynų, 17
Nedrįsdama sugrįžt. 18
Line 15 contains the phonemic alliteration of the vowel sound ‘a’ which recurs in the initial position
of all the four main words within the line: this is the strongest kind of assonance. This sound is
called unrounded by Kirsten Malmkjaer (2005: 73) and is very common in the Lithuanian language.
Though not exactly the same sound, it is phonetically represented as [a: / Λ /a]. Overall, the vowel
sound ‘a’ is repeated in the initial syllable in lines 15 to 17, which can be called the strongest
category of alliteration. The last line has the long vowel sound ‘į’ [i:] in words “Nedrįsdama
sugrįžt” (“And was afraid to return”). Here, the sound appears in a middle syllable of the first word
and in the final syllable of the second word. The repetition of assonances even more than
consonants gives musical tone to a poem and creates a strong rhythmical pattern that unifies words,
images and the lines within the poem.
In conclusion, although the concept of alliteration is defined according to different aspects
by different critics, it is clear that writers use alliteration, in Adams’ words, “to join sound to sense
and to decorate their lines” (1994: 13). Poets tend to use both types of alliteration extensively in
their free-verse poems, and so achieve musicality as well as to produce a specific correlation of
sounds and images within a poem. Furthermore, the most important effect achieved by poets using
35
alliteration is the emphasis of words that are either essential to the meaning of a poem or to its
sound effects.
5. STRATEGIES USED BY JONAS ZDANYS, LAIMA SRUOGINIS AND KERRY
SHAWN KEYS IN TRANSLATING LITHUANIAN FREE-VERSE POEMS
5.1 Theoretical Concepts Used for Translation Strategies by Lawrence Venuti
and Eirlys E. Davies
Though the practice of literary translation includes many critical approaches, those that are
suggested by Lawrence Venuti and Eirlys E. Davies have been chosen for the analysis of the
translations of the free-verse poems under discussion. Subsection 5.1.1 defines and discusses
Venuti’s general approach to literary translation. The second subsection reviews Eirlys E. Davies’
practical terminology for translation strategies that are easily applied to free-verse translation. Each
of Davies’ seven major strategies is defined and illustrated with examples that have been created by
the author of the thesis.
5.1.1
Lawrence Venuti’s Concepts of Domestication and Foreignisation
There are many different methods and strategies used in the translation of literary texts; these can be
divided into those that produce a translation which conforms to the values of the source culture and
stays as close as possible to the original text, in contrast to those that produce a translation closer to
the norms of the target audience and their culture. Many critics use a variety of terms for different
translation procedures that can be placed under two broad categories, which Lawrence Venuti
(1995) chooses to call as domestication and foreignisation.
According to Venuti, the translation of texts from one culture into another usually requires
a choice between two translation procedures, domestication and foreignisation. A translator’s
decision either to domesticate or to foreignise affects the whole translation process and leads either
to a translation which fits in easily with the target readership’s cultural context, or to a text that
constantly reminds target readers of cultural differences (Venuti 2002: 18-21). In Venuti’s words,
“domestication is the reduction of the foreign text to target-language cultural values” (Venuti 2002:
20). In this case, the translator chooses to eliminate the more difficult cultural differences of the
source text.
Furthermore, Venuti argues that translators try to stay “invisible” (2002: 48) in the target
texts they produce especially if they replace all the instances of foreignness that appear in the source
text with conventional elements from the target language. Once they do this, the target readers can
36
read such a text as though it was originally written in the target language. In particular, Venuti notes
that “Anglo-American culture has long been dominated [since the sixteenth century] by
domesticating theories that recommend fluent translation” (2002: 21). Since this thesis deals with
translations into English, an analysis of the translations of Lithuanian free-verse poems is an
interesting way to see whether the translators Jonas Zdanys, Laima Sruoginis and Kerry Shawn
Keys domesticate or not.
The opposite strategy to domestication is foreignisation, which Venuti defines as “a
method of translation which is the non-transparent representation of an essence that resides in the
foreign text and is valuable in itself” (2002: 20). Furthermore, he explains that this strategy
“signifies the differences of the foreign text, yet only by disrupting the cultural codes that prevail in
the target language” (Venuti 2002: 20). Here the translator decides to deviate from target- language
conventions by retaining some of the ‘foreignness’ of the source text’s language or cultural norms.
Furthermore, Venuti indicates that “the strategy of foreignisation can alter the ways translations are
read as well as produced” (2002: 24). For example, using non-English syntax reminds readers that
the text is translated, not originally written in English. Therefore, he suggests that specialists
“[should] (to) develop theory and practice of translation that resists dominant target-language
cultural values so as to signify the linguistic and cultural differences of the foreign text” (2002: 23).
He justifies this suggestion by insisting that each culture’s “strangeness” (Venuti 2002: 24) is a
great value to target-language readers because they can acquire knowledge that contributes to their
cosmopolitan experience. The extent to which the strategies of domestication and foreignisation are
exemplified in the translations of the Lithuanian free-verse poems under discussion are examined in
Sections 5.2 and 6.
5.1.2 Eirlys E. Davies’ Categories of Translation Strategies
Unlike Lawrence Venuti’s approach, which is broadly theoretic, Eirlys E. Davies suggests several
pragmatic strategies of translation: though she focuses on culture-specific items, these can be
applied for the analysis of the translations. The terms used by Davies for translation strategies have
been chosen because, as Milda Danytė suggests, they are “transparent” and “easy understandable”
(2006: 204). Davies identifies seven translation strategies: preservation, addition, omission,
globalisation, localisation, transformation and creation (Davies 2003: 72-89).
Davies’ first strategy is preservation: when a source-text item has no close equivalent in the
target culture; it is maintained without any changes in the translation (Davies 2003: 72-73). For
instance, if in a Lithuanian text the word “naminis” (a Lithuanian mythic creature, a bogeyman of a
domestic kind) appears, the translator may decide to preserve the word as it is without any change
37
or explanation in the English text, even though this word does not convey its real meaning to the
English readers. In this case the exotic sense of the Lithuanian-text word is preserved in the English
translation, but what is changed is the effect which the word has on the English readers. In this case
English readers are not familiar with a particular kind of a bogeyman that is familiar to Lithuanian
readers, as it goes back to pagan traditions when people believed a wide variety of supernatural
creatures. This, however, is not the same in English, where the understanding of a bogeyman is
different from the more specific ones held by Lithuanians.
A second strategy is addition in which a translator preserves the source-text element and
provides, an extra-textual (for example, a footnote) or an inter-textual explanation (one incorporated
right after the word in the source text) (Davies 2003: 78-79). For example, if the Lithuanian text
contains the word “kąstinis,” in the English text it may appear as “kąstinis, curd stirred up with
garlic served with boiled potatoes or bread” (an inter-textual explanation).
The third of Davies’ strategies is called omission: here the translator does not decode the
meaning of the source-text word, but simply decides to leave it out (Davies 2003: 79-80). For
instance, if a Lithuanian text states that a character “suvalgė salotas, sriubą ir vėdarus,” naming
three items, it may be translated as “he ate salad and soup”, with the exotic culture-specific food
item, “vėdarus,” (cleaned pig’s intestines stuffed with grated potatoes and then cooked in an oven)
not translated. Here the translator has to decide whether the word is important to the whole meaning
of the text or can be excluded without any significant loss in overall meaning.
Omission in poetry, as in other kinds of literary texts, frequently appears in combination
with the strategy of compensation. Thus Sandor Hervey, Ian Higgins and Michael Loughridge
define compensation as
The technique of making up for the translation loss of important source text features by
approximating their effects in the target text through means other than those used in the
source text – that is, making up for source text effects achieved by one means through
using other means in the target text (1995: 229).
As Mona Baker comments, the translator’s main purpose is to achieve an effect on target-text
readers similar or adequate to that of the source text (1992: 78). The translator may decide, for
example, that the original alliteration cannot be reproduced, but that it could be provided elsewhere
in the text.
Furthermore, Hervey, Higgins and Loughridge distinguish two major types of
compensation that can be found in free-verse poems, compensation in kind and compensation in
place (1995: 27). Accordingly, they explain that “compensation in kind refers to making up for one
type of textual effect in the source text by another type in the target text” (Hervey, Higgins and
Loughridge 1995: 27-28). For example, translators cannot reproduce a source-text word with an
38
equivalent target text but choose to compensate by finding a synonymous word with a more implicit
meaning (Hervey, Higgins and Loughridge 1995: 27-28). Another way could be to compensate the
loss of connotative meanings by translating at least the literal meaning of a word.
A second type of compensation that is commonly used in free-verse translations is
compensation in place. Hervey, Higgins and Loughridge define this as “making up for the loss of a
particular effect found at a given place in the source text by creating a corresponding effect at an
earlier or later place in the target text” (1995: 29). An example of this type for poetry would be
when alliteration, a central feature of a poem, cannot be precisely and equally intensively
reproduced in the target text because the key words do not alliterate in the required ways. In such a
case, the translator often tries at least partly to compensate for this loss by using alliteration in
different places from where it occurs in the source text.
Globalisation is another strategy noted by Davies: this is explained as “the process of
replacing a source-text word with the more neutral or general one, in the sense that it is accessible
to audiences from a wider range of cultural background” (Davies 2003: 83). For instance, the
Lithuanian text may include the word “Nemunas,” the longest river in Lithuania, but it is translated
just as “the river” in the English text.
The opposite strategy to globalisation is localisation, “when a source-text word is replaced
with a word that is firmly bound to a target culture and is natural to a target audience” (Davies
2003: 84), which means that the item is established and conventionalised in a target culture, and is a
culture-specific item to the source text readers. For example, the phrase “šaltalankių arbata (tea
made from sea buckthorn) appears in the Lithuanian text and is translated as “English breakfast tea”
because this kind of tea is a part of British everyday reality.
The strategy of transformation refers to a process when a source-text word is replaced with a
target-text word “that caries a similar meaning, but it distorts the original meaning of the source
text” (Davies 2003: 86-87). For example, when the Lithuanian phrase is “ji nuskynė bijūnų iš
darželio” (she plucked peonies in the garden) and the translator translates a word “bijūnų / peonies”
as “she plucked daisies in the garden”, here both words refer to a flower, but a peony is a midsummer flower while a daisy is a flower of early spring, which in this case might distort the
meaning of the whole text.
The last of the seven strategies is the rather rare one of creation, which “allows a translator
to become a kind of author, as well because one creates a culture-specific item that is absent in a
source text” (Davies 2003: 88). For instance, if the Lithuanian text includes the phrase “jis valgė
sausainius” (he ate biscuits) and it is translated as “he ate biscuits and rhubarb crumble”, the
translator has created a culture-specific item “rhubarb crumble,” a traditional cake in England,
which was not in the text. The use of this strategy can be explained, for example, by the translator’s
39
desire to domesticate the source text and so to bring it closer to the target-text readers’ own
experience.
5.2
Applying Venuti’s Concepts of Domestication and Foreignisation to Translation Choices
Made by Jonas Zdanys, Laima Sruoginis and Kerry Shawn Keys
This analytical part consists of four sub-subsections, all of which concider translation choices made
by Jonas Zdanys, Laima Sruoginis and Kerry Shawn Keys while rendering Lithuanian free-verse
poems. An attempt is made to apply Venuti’s concepts of domestication and foreignisation to the
translators’ decisions in places, wherever it is possible. In cases when Venuti’s general approach
cannot be applied for a specific translators’ choice, the older terms of ‘free’ and ‘faithful’
translation are used. According to Jean-Francois Joly, a free translation is “a looser, less slavish
rendering of the source text, less bound to individual words and their sequencing” (2001: 87);
while, on the contrary, faithful translation, in Venuti’s words, is achieved by “rendering correctly
the meaning of the original and exhibiting the general spirit which pervades it” (2002: 78).
Sub-section 5.2.1 focuses on issues in translating the titles of Lithuanian free-verse poems. Here the
major issue becomes the translation of Lithuanian cultural references that appear in these titles.
Sub-section 5.2.2 analyses how the translators manage to transfer line-breaks and layout without
losing most of the effects created by the Lithuanian poets. Sub-section 5.2.3 identifies strategies that
are used in translating alliteration, analysing specific examples. The last sub-section identifies kinds
of repetition in the Lithuanian texts and discusses their translation problems.
5.2.1 Issues in the English Translation of the Titles of Lithuanian Free-Verse Poems
One of the first decisions that the translator has to make while working on a free-verse poem is the
rendering of its title: this is often an important indication of the major theme in the poem. Thus,
transmitting the explicit and suggested meanings of the title of a poem will lead its readers to a
much more rewarding experience of the poem, for they will have some idea of what to expect from
its contents. This sub-section analyses the translators’ decisions that are made in translating some of
the Lithuanian free-verse poems selected for this thesis. Their translation choices will be discussed
mainly within Lawrence Venuti’s concept of translation as domestication or foreignisation.
A closer reading of the Lithuanian free-verse titles suggested that they can be grouped in
two categories: titles that include proper nouns and those that do not contain any culture-specific
items. The first group includes three free-verse poems by Sigitas Geda: “Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse,”
“Angelas krintantis Palangoj” and “Atsakymas į marsiečių užklausimą.” “Angelas krintantis
40
Palangoj” and “Atsakymas į marsiečių užklausimą” have two English versions of their translation:
the first poem was translated by both Jonas Zdanys (1995) and Kerry Shawn Keys (2002), while the
second was translated by Zdanys (1995) and Laima Sruoginis (1997).
All the titles of three of Geda’s poems contain proper nouns: Justiniškės, a middle-class
residential neighbourhood in Vilnius; Palanga, the main seaside resort town in Lithuania; and
marsiečiai, the hypothetical native inhabitants of the planet Mars. In English, proper nouns differ
from common nouns in being written with a capital letter, but in Lithuanian the names of national
groups are never written with capital letters: for example, in Geda’s title the word “marsiečiai”
(Martians) is not capitalised. The words Justiniškės and Palanga are Lithuanian culture-bound terms
because no other country has places with the same names. Even though English readers would
understand that these are places in Lithuania, these names would not evoke the images of Palanga
or Justiniškės that Lithuanian readers have, as many have been to these places or at least have heard
of them or seen them on television. However, the word “marsiečiai” (Martians) is a universalism
and a similar understanding of this word is shared by both Lithuanian and English readers.
The translators’ decisions about how to translate these titles is somewhat different. First,
Zdanys translates Geda’s title “Angelas krintantis Palangoj” as “An Angel Falling in Palanga,”
while Keys chooses “Angel Falling in Palanga.” Here the only difference is that Keys decides to
omit the article before the countable noun “angel,” which breaks a grammatical rule in English that
a singular countable noun has to have an article. Yet Zdanys follows the English-language norm and
puts the article “an” before the noun “angel.” Zdanys’ choice of translation, in Venuti’s terms, can
be called domestication, because the translator is faithful to an English-grammar norm and puts an
article where the English reader would normally expect it. On the other hand, Keys decides to
ignore this rule and so stays closer to the Lithuanian language, which does not have articles. Thus
his strategy can be called foreignisation, making Keys a more visible producer of the translation and
following the Lithuanian-language structure precisely.
Still, it can be argued that it is common in English to leave out an article in the title of a
poem. to check for the tendency whether titles are written with an article or not in English poetry,
The Norton Anthology of Poetry (1983)1 and The Norton Anthology of English Literature (1986)2
have been examined to provide evidence. For in many cases a singular countable noun is preceded
by an article: William Blake’s “The Chimney Sweeper,” “The Fly,” “The Lamb,” “The Tiger”
(Norton Anthology of English 1986) Dante Gabriel Rossetti like “The Sonnet,” “A Superscription,”
___________________
1
Alexander W. Allison et al., eds. 1983. The Norton Anthology of Poetry. 3rd ed. New York: W.W. Norton and
Company
2
M. H. Abrams, ed. 1986. The Norton Anthology of English Literature. 5th ed. Vol. 2. New York: W.W. Norton and
Company
41
“A Triad” (Norton Anthology of English 1986). However, there are many cases as, for example, D.
H. Lawrence’s “Piano” and “Snake,” George Herbert “Prayer” or Josephine Miles’ “Student,”
“Moon,” and “Bird” (Norton Anthology of Poetry 1983) and many others where titles with a
singular countable noun do not include any articles. Clearly, English writers are allowed to choose
whether to obey this grammar rule or not in the titles of poems.
However, the use of an article is not the only issue of translation in discussing this poem; a
more important one is that of the culture-specific item “Palanga.” Both Zdanys and Keys capitalise
this word, marking it as a proper noun so that English readers will understand that this word refers
to a location. However, the word itself will not arouse any associations similar to that of Lithuanian
readers, who think of Palanga as the largest and most representative seaside resort of the Lithuanian
Baltic seashore, evoking images like the pier, cafés on Basanavičius Street, crowded sandy beaches
and the Amber Museum. Keys decides to simply preserve the proper noun, Palanga, without
providing any explanation, while Zdanys considers the word important to the understanding of the
content of the poem and provides a footnote, an external explicitation: “Lithuanian resort town on
the Baltic Sea” (Zdanys 1997: 113). In his explanation Zdanys includes some major information
about Palanga to satisfy his English readers’ curiosity and make their reading more meaningful.
This use of explicitation is a form of domestication. On the contrary, Keys foreignises the title,
since he preserves the name of the town, “Angel Falling in Palanga,” without any explanation
leaving it as an exotic word for his target English audience.
Another poem by Geda which also contains a proper noun is “Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse,”
translated by Keys as “Trash Truck in Justiniškės.” The translator follows the same strategy as he
did with the translation of “Angel Falling in Palanga,” remaining faithful to Lithuanian-language
structures and omitting the article before the singular countable noun “trash truck.” However, he
does follow English rules when the locative case ending “Justiniškėse” becomes “in Justiniškės” the
nominative case. Here Keys is obliged to make this adjustment, for English nouns do not have
endings to signal a case as Lithuanian does. As with “Palanga,” he offers no explanation of where
or what this place is.
An interesting example of the translating of a title occurs with Geda’s poem “Atsakymas į
marsiečių užklausimą”, translated by both Zdanys and Sruoginis. Zdanys chooses to translate the
title in a very faithful manner as “An Answer to the Martians’ Inquiry,” while Sruoginis interprets it
differently, “An Answer to a Martian Chronicler.” The first difference between the two translations
is the choice of number: in the original the noun Martians is written in the plural, but in Sruoginis’
translation it becomes singular with an indefinite article. Unlike Sruoginis, Zdanys preserves the
plural form of the noun and puts the definite article before it, “the Martians’.” Another important
issue is their semantic choice in rendering the word “užklausimą” (inquiry), which Zdanys
42
translates as “inquiry” but Sruoginis as “chronicler.” According to Webster’s Encyclopedic
Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language (1996) the word, inquiry, means “a seeking or
request for truth, information, or knowledge” and the word, chronicler, here can have two
meanings: “a chronological record of events; a history” or “a writer of a chronicle; a recorder of
events in the order of time; an historian” Semantically, Zdanys’ translation is much closer to the
meaning of the Lithuanian word. Sruoginis chooses to translate the title according to her
interpretation of the contents of the poem, because Geda does give a chronological account of
events. Thus, Sruoginis’ title becomes more specific than Geda’s own title and less faithful as a
translation.
The second group of titles does not include culture-specific elements, but still illustrates
several interesting strategies of translation. The most common strategy in this group is
foreignisation: for instance, Henrikas Nagys’ Latin title “Laterna Obscura”: “laterna” meaning ‘a
lamp’ or ‘a torch’, “obscura” − ‘dim, dark, obscure’; ‘only faintly seen’ (Kazavinis 2007: 86, 146),
is preserved by Zdanys as “Laterna Obscura.” Zdanys’ decision to leave the Latin as it is does not
distort the primary effect of the title that was created by Nagys; therefore, the title has the same
effect on both Lithuanian and English readers some of whom will understand Latin and some will
not.
In the same way, semantic differences in the Lithuanian and English vocabulary create a
double meaning in Sigitas Parulskis’ poem “Šaltis” translated by Sruoginis as “Cold.” The latter
word has the same orthographical form as a noun and as an adjective in English, but in the
Lithuanian title the word, “cold,” is undoubtedly a noun. Therefore, the effect is somewhat different
because English readers are not sure from reading the title what they can expect to find in the
content of Parulskis’ poem.
Furthermore, Zdanys in cooperation with Antanas Danielius and Craig Czury translate the
title of Antanas A. Jonynas’s poem “Gaisras” as “Fire.” The issue here is that Lithuanian has two
different words that refer to fire: the word ‘ugnis’ has the more neutral meaning of the English word
“fire,” “a state, process, or instance of combustion in which fuel or other material is ignited and
combined with oxygen, giving off light, heat, and flame” (Webster’s Encyclopedic Dictionary
1996), while the word ‘gaisras’ means a fire that is destroying something: “the destructive burning
of a building, town, forest, etc.” (Webster’s Encyclopedic Dictionary 1996). Since the English has
only one word for two different meanings, the title “Fire” loses the clearly negative notion of a
destructive fire, which was intended by Jonynas.
The last example of the translation of titles is “Lėlių siuvėja” by Nijolė Miliauskaitė,
which Zdanys translates as “The Doll Maker” and Sruoginis as “Doll Maker.” The semantic
meaning of the title “Lėlių siuvėja” is ‘a woman who sews dolls,’ so that Lithuanian readers would
43
immediately imagine a woman sitting and sewing a doll from some kind of cloth. However, both
Zdanys and Sruoginis decide to use a more neutral word “maker,” for the Lithuanian specific and
gender-marked word “siuvėja”; “maker” does not necessarily suggest a woman. Moreover, the
English word “maker” does not imply the idea that the person is producing dolls from cloth and not
from other materials like plastic, porcelain or wood, yet the Lithuanian word “siuvėja” clearly
implies that the doll is made specifically from cloth. Therefore, Zdanys and Sruoginis’ titles are
misleading or at least vague, since they do not communicate the same idea about the subject of the
poem to English readers. Only after reading the whole poem will they understand the title correctly
and have an image corresponding to the Lithuanian title, “Lėlių siuvėja.”
This discussion of choices made while translating Lithuanian titles shows that Jonas
Zdanys, Laima Sruoginis, Kerry Shawn Keys, and Zdanys in cooperation with Antanas Danielius
and Craig Czury have used a variety of strategies, though the most common one is foreignisation
with minor variations because of differences between the Lithuanian and English languages.
Moreover, the understanding of culture-specific items from one culture to another depends on the
extent of familiarity the target culture has with the source culture and its traditions. Although more
and more concepts are shared and understood between different cultures, as illustrated by the
universalism, Martians, there are still many Lithuanian culture-specific references which reflect
conventions and traditions of this culture and have no true equivalent in the English world.
5.2.2
Transferring Line-breaks and Layout from Lithuanian to English in the Translations
This sub-section focuses on a comparative analysis of the use of line-breaks in Lithuanian source
and English target texts. An important aspect of this discussion is whether translators follow the
source-language division of lines and, if not, how they compensate for this loss: for example, by
creating a line-break in another place, but of the same kind. The second part of this discussion deals
with the translators’ success or failure in transferring the original layout of the free-verse poems. In
this case, the poems are examined visually to see whether translators maintain, approximately, the
same line-lengths, corresponding stanzaic patterns, spacing and shape. If they choose to make
certain variations, the effect on the reading of a poem is considered.
As discussed in Sub-section 4.1, end-stopped and run-on lines are the two major categories
of line-breaks. A careful reading of the Lithuanian free-verse poems suggests that the majority of
line-breaks are end-stopped and in many cases translators retain these line-breaks without any
variations. Still, there are interesting examples of line-breaks that indicate different decisions by the
translators or their struggles to overcome differences between the two languages. In general,
problems in transferring a line-break occur when translators try to retain the same basic line-length
44
as in the original poem and thus have to break the line in a different place than that of the source
text. For example, the poem “Lėlių siuvėja” by Nijolė Miliauskaitė illustrates several interesting
instances of line-breaks: since this poem has two translations, their comparison allows providing a
more complex analysis (see Table 1). Certain words have been put in bold by the author of this
thesis to make the comparison easier.
45
Table 1
“Lėlių siuvėja” (LT)
(Miliauskaitė 1995: 119-120)
“Doll Maker” (EN)
(tr. Sruoginis 1997: 88)
“The Doll Maker” (EN)
(tr. Zdanys 2002:171)
[…]
[…]
[…]
kiekviena lėlė vis kitokia, vis kita veido išraiška
lyg būtų gyvos
šukuosena, rūbai, viskas o viskas
atitinka žmogaus padėtį, luomą
each doll is always different; her expressions vary
as if alive—
hairdos, clothing, everything, yes everything
suits a social position, a class
every doll is always different, the expression
on each face
always different as if they were alive
hairstyles, clothes, everything and all
suits a person's position, social class
[…]
[…]
[...]
pasodini prie veidrodžio Pjero 5
liūdną, blyškų, blizgančiu atlasiniu
rūbu, prie lango prieini, pasišnekėt su mėnuliu
jam pasiskųst ir pasiguost:
- kiekviena iš jų
nusineša ir mano
sielos dalį
you seat Piero by the mirror— 5
sad, pale, in shiny satin
clothing, you move towards the window
to talk with the moon
to complain, to seek comfort:
10
- each one of them 10
carries away a scrap
of my soul
you seat Piero before the mirror 5
sad, pale, in a shining satin
suit, walk to the window to talk to the moon
to complain to him, to find comfort:
each one of them
carries away
10
a scrap of my soul
46
The first instance of a line-break to be discussed is line 2 in the Lithuanian text, “lyg būtų gyvos”:
ends with a natural syntactic break and so is an end-stopped line. Here it is necessary to consider the
length of this line in order to note differences in its translation: it contains only three words. In
translation, Laima Sruoginis maintains this number of words and even the same kind of a linebreak, “as if alive”; however, Zdanys chooses to break the first line differently and moves part of
the first line, “always different,” into the second line, which then becomes much longer, “always
different as if they were alive”. Further, Zdanys turns the first line into a run-on line: “every doll is
always different, the expression on each face / always different as if they were alive” (ll. 1-2). His
breaking the first line at the word “face” makes the line incomplete, though this is not the case in
Miliauskaitė’s text.
An instance of a run-on line is line 6 in the original, “liūdną, blyškų, blizgančiu atlasiniu,”
because it ends with an adjective that modifies a noun which appears only in the next line. It has
been indicated that such a break is syntactically unnatural; thus, in Lithuanian the line, “liūdną,
blyškų, blizgančiu atlasiniu” sounds unfinished and forces the reader to proceed to the next line to
get its complete meaning. Then, after reading line 7, it becomes clear that the last part of line 6
refers to the noun “rūbu”: “liūdną, blyškų, blizgančiu atlasiniu / rūbu, prie lango prieini,
pasišnekėt su mėnuliu.” Both translators are aware of this run-on line and retain it in their texts:
Sruoginis writes “sad, pale, in shiny satin / clothing, you move towards the window,” while Zdanys
makes it “sad, pale, in a shining satin / suit, walk to the window to talk to the moon.”
Another example again indicates how breaking a line in a different place alters the number
of lines within the stanza and the emphasis it gives to certain words. The second stanza of the
Lithuanian text in Table 1 contains four lines, while Sruoginis’ translation has five. This occurs
because she decides to break line 7 and make it two lines. The Lithuanian line “rūbu, prie lango
prieini, pasišnekėt su mėnuliu” (l. 7) is end-stopped, which Zdanys translates as “suit, walk to the
window to talk to the moon” (l. 7), also making it end-stopped. Sruoginis, on the other hand,
breaks this line differently: she creates two end-stopped lines, “clothing, you move towards the
window / to talk with the moon” (ll. 7-8). In this case, Sruoginis emphasises the word “window,”
which appeared in the middle of the line in the original.
Another instance of an interesting choice in transferring line-breaks is line 10 in
Miliauskaitė’s poem. This line is an end-stopped because it ends with a natural syntactic break and
does not violate any logical norm: “nusineša ir mano” (l. 10); though it can be argued that the end
of this line can have a variety of interpretations and triggers the readers’ curiosity. This line has
three words, with the emphasis on the final word, the pronoun “mano” (my). However, neither
Sruoginis nor Zdanys manage to preserve the same number of words in the line, and none of them
ends line 10 with a pronoun as in Miliauskaitė’s poem. Zdanys, though, makes the line even shorter
46
with an end-stopping, “carries away”: he transfers only the Lithuanian word “nusineša” (carries away)
and moves the rest of the words to the following line. Sruoginis, on the contrary, breaks a possessive case
and ends line 11 with the noun “a scrap,” while the second part of the phrase, “of my soul,” appears in the
next line: “carries away a scrap / of my soul” (ll. 11-12). By this strategy Sruoginis apparently does
not change the original end-stopped line, for the line sounds complete, but still this line acquires a
new meaning after the next line is read. Although both translators choose different places to break
the original lines and so emphasise different words than in the original, they retain Miliauskaitė’s
overall purpose of making the reading of the final stanza more demanding, for the short lines slow
down their reading. The way Miliauskaitė breaks the final stanza into lines signals its importance to
the meaning of the whole poem.
One more example of interesting line-breaks is found in Henrikas Nagys’ poem “Laterna
Obscura.” Table 2 shows instances of these line-breaks and how Jonas Zdanys chooses to transfer
them into his English text. The concrete examples of line-breaks are put in bold by the author of this
thesis in order to make the analysis more understandable.
Table 2
“Laterna Obscura” (LT)
(Nagys 1960: 41-42, ll. 9-13)
“Laterna Obscura” (EN)
(Zdanys 1978:141, ll. 9-13)
Mudu piešiame brolio veidą ant pirmojo sniego.
Nuomariu serganti sargo duktė sužiedėjusią
duoną 10
trupina kapo duobėn. Kaimietės vaškinį veidą
ir klostyto popieriaus priegalvį sniegas užpusto.
Pro pūgą aidi kimi giesmė ir uždusę varpai.
We trace our brother's face in the first snow.
The guard's epileptic daughter crumbles dry
bread
10
into the coffin hole. Snow drifts over the
peasant woman's
wax face and her plaited paper pillow.
Through the snowstorm echo the hoarse hymn
and breathless bells.
In this poem all the lines are end-stopped except the tenth which runs on to the eleventh: “Nuomariu
serganti sargo duktė sužiedėjusią duoną / trupina kapo duobėn. Kaimietės vaškinį veidą” (ll. 10-11).
Because Lithuanian word order allows an object to precede its verb, the first line does not contain a
verb and ends with the object “duoną” (bread) in the accusative case; readers need to look at the
next line to find the verb. Thus, only after reading the next line does the meaning of the first one
become clear. However, in Zdanys’ translation, line ten conveys a complete idea: “The guard’s
epileptic daughter crumbles dry bread / into the coffin hole. Snow drifts over the peasant woman’s”
(ll. 10-11). The tenth line ends with the same noun “bread” as in the Lithuanian text, but the
difference is that this translation includes the verb “crumbles” in the same line, too, which Nagys
did not do. Zdanys has to follow normal English subject-verb-object order, and so loses the surprise
readers get while reading the original text. Although this line is translated as end-stopped, Zdanys
47
compensates for this deviation by making the next line run-on: “into the coffin hole. Snow drifts
over the peasant woman’s / wax face and her plaited paper pillow.” (ll. 11-12). In the original, line
11 is end-stopped, however, Zdanys ends the eleventh line with the noun “woman’s” in the
possessive case, making the idea incomplete. Only after reading the next line do readers see that the
woman has a “wax face.”
This discussion has focused on those instances of line-breaks that differ in the way they
are transferred from Lithuanian into English. Overall, both translators try to maintain line-breaks in
the same places as in Lithuanian poems. If they cannot follow the original line-breaks, they often try
to compensate for the loss in another place by making a line run-on or end-stopped, depending on
the original.
Similar strategies of transference appear in the translation of the general layout of a poem,
where the major problem is how to retain the length of lines and visual form of the poem on the
page. Three Lithuanian free-verse poems are taken as examples of these problems. The first is
“Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse” (“Trash Truck in Justiniškės”) by Sigitas Geda because it has an
unusual form that has sight stanzas. All the lines of this poem are very short, from two to four
words in a line; the majority of them are end-stopped, though they do not convey a complete idea.
Table 3 presents Geda’s poem and its translation by Kerry Shawn Keys.
Table 3
“Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse” (LT)
(Geda 2002: 124)
šitą trumpą kovo akimirksnį
vaikui daužant sniegą
už lango
purvinom kojom
praskrendant varnai 5
dabar jau galiu
jau pajėgiu
ilgi ir dažni buvo
kūno marinimai
sunkios sielovartos
10
bet mano siela
tikrai yra
sykiu su karaliaus Dovydo
visatos liūdėjimai
liūdesiai šios visatos
yra mano siela
15
dabar aš žinau
dabar galiu pasakyti
“Trash Truck in Justiniškės”(EN)
(Keys 2002: 125)
in this brief monument in March
as a child with muddy feet
stamps snow
outside the window
a crow flies by
5
now I can manage
now I am able
mortification of the body
was frequent and long
my soul’s conversion difficult 10
but my soul
truly is together
with King David’s
the universe’s sorrows
the sorrows of this universe 15
are my soul
now I know
now I can say it
As may be seen, the poem has a unique shape with a degree of regularity. Though the poem does
not contain absolutely regular stanzas and there is no white space left between lines to indicate a
new next stanza, still it does have visual stanzas because some groups of lines are indented: after
48
each two or three lines, the next three are indented. Accordingly, Kerry Shawn Keys transfers the
layout of Geda’s poem precisely. Keys tries to retain the same number of words in a line, but here
he has to obey certain rules of English grammar and to include pronouns, articles and prepositions
which extend the lines of the translation. Nevertheless, he maintains the shape of the poem on the
page.
Another example of a poem that differs in its form from traditional poetic forms is Sigitas
Parulskis’ poem “Šaltis” (“Cold”), which, like Geda’s “Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse” (“Trash Truck in
Justiniškės”) does not have any capitalization or punctuation. Table 4 shows how the original poem
appears on the page and how Laima Sruoginis manages to maintain its form in her translation.
Table 4
“Šaltis” (LT)
(Parulskis 1994: 319)
“Cold” (EN)
(Sruoginis 1997: 108)
su motina
kartu su motina
mother
with mother
žengiau į požemius
į rūsį raugtų agurkų
we went underground
into the cellar for pickles
statinėj sudrumstusi vandenį 5
pelėsiais apejusį skystį
motina sakė
the water in the barrel was murky 5
liquid covered with mold
mother said
ale šaltas vanduo
šaltas vanduo sakiau aš
but the water’s cold
the water’s cold I repeated
ir iškur šitoks šaltis 10
toks šaltis kad atima ranką
and where does this cold come from 10
so cold my arm loses feeling
gal iš tamsos
iš nakties ar iš žemės
maybe from the dark
from night or from the earth
iš žemės
from the earth
po žeme bus šalčiau 15
beneath the earth it will be even colder 15
Both the original and its translation contain 15 lines and eight stanzas, even though the division of
lines into stanzas is not a traditional one. The poem has one stanza of three lines, five of two lines
and two of one line each. These one-line stanzas are the final ones so that the layout affects the
reading of the poem’s closing part, emphasising the unexpected reference to death. Moreover, the
white spaces between the lines indicate not only the disjunction of images, but also silence that
allows Parulskis to emphasise his ideas and at the same time to slow down the reading pace.
Sruoginis manages to retain the visual appearance of this poem and similarly controls the reading
by the target audience as in Parulskis’ poem. Nevertheless, her last line is twice as long as the
original: “po žeme bus šalčiau” (four words) and “beneath the earth it will be even colder” (eight
49
words), in part because Sruoginis adds the emphatic ‘ever’, but also due to the different structure of
the English language: the need for an article, “the earth,” and a subject “it will be.”
A different translation choice for the layout can be noted in the translation of Antanas A.
Jonynas’ poem “Gaisras” (“Fire”) by Jonas Zdanys, Antanas Danielius and Craig Czury. The form
of the Lithuanian poem is very close to that of a traditional sonnet. Moreover, the poem uses some
loose rhyme, which sometimes appears in free verse. The table below shows clearly how the
translated poem visually differs from its original.
Table 5
“Gaisras” (LT)
(Jonynas 1997: 130)
Suplėšau drobę rėmus į dalis suskaldau
skutus ir šipulius metu į židinį
ar dar pajėgsiu pasiruošti tau kaip maldai –
tik atsivert ir nieko neprašyti
liepsna ateina siekiniams neišsakytiems
5
lauke užkimęs vakaro kaukimas
pro tamsų langą primerktom akytėm įdėmiai žvelgia
nuolankus laukimas
ar dar pajėgsiu pasiruošti tau kaip maldai
nuraudę sienos ir raudoni baldai
10
aplink tarytum kraujo lytys švyti
kokia beprotiška aistra užvaldo
vilties mažytę taurę sudaužyti – –
tik atsivert ir nieko neprašyti
“Fire” (EN)
(Zdanys, Danielius, Czury 1997: 131)
I tear the canvas frames to pieces
shred splinter
heave them into the fireplace
just to be open
to prepare myself for you
5
as in prayer
have I the strength
don’t ask
the flame breathes what’s not spoken
while outside the throaty cries of dusk
10
this darkening window
not looking at anything
just staring
as in prayer
do I have the strength to prepare myself for you
the walls redden and furniture red
like ice in my blood
what terrible passion grips
one small goblet of hope
breaking it
20
just to feel open
and ask for nothing
15
As Table 5 indicates, the original poem has 14 lines that are divided into four stanzas. The poem is
similar to a sonnet not only in its form; its general theme is love since the poem is full of erotic
implications such like “the flame breathes what’s not spoken” (l. 9), “the wall redden and furniture
red” (l. 16) and “what terrible passion grips” (l. 18). Jonynas is not writing a traditional sonnet, but
he still makes his poem allude to a traditional verse genre.
However, Jonas Zdanys, Antanas Danielius and Craig Czury’s interpretation of Jonynas’
poetic form is different, since the translators decide to alter the original form. Thus, the translated
poem contains 22 lines, which are not divided into stanzas of any kind. It also seems that translators
made their own decisions on how to break lines and how long they should be because there is no
identifiable pattern to explain their choices. On the whole, the translators create a free-verse poem
that conveys a quite different visual message to its readers; therefore, their translation is also a kind
50
of creation, because they have re-organised the poem from their own perspectives, changing the
pace of reading and the emphasis of words.
In addition, the translation emphasises the act of destruction by omitting, contrary to usual
English usage, the ‘and’ between two verbs “shred splinter” in the second line. Jonynas uses two
verbs “suplėšau” and “sudraskau,” while the translators use three “tear,” “shred” and “splinter.”
Moreover, the translators decide to omit the conjunction in the second line and leave a double space
between “shred splinter,” which particularly emphasises these words. Moreover, the breaking of
certain expressions into separate lines makes them sound more dramatic: “have I the strength / don’t
ask” (ll. 7-8), “not looking at anything / just staring” (ll. 12-13), “breaking it / just to feel open / and
ask for nothing” (ll. 20-22). Such line-breaks juxtapose images even more strongly than Jonynas
does, which also affects the mood of the poem. This translation offers the most radical changes in
layout out of all the free-verse poems discussed in this thesis.
A different example of layout is in Geda’s poem “Atsakymas į marsiečių užklausimą”
translated by Zdanys as “An Answer to the Martians’ Inquiry” and Sruoginis as “An Answer to a
Martian Chronicler.” The layout of this poem differs from the poems already discussed in that it is
written in extremely short lines and requires vertical rather than horizontal reading. Table 6
provides the original poem along with its two translations.
Table 6
“Atsakymas į marsiečių
užklausimą” (LT)
(Geda 1988: 10)
kairiarankių
dinastijos
palikuonis
Sigitas
Geda
5
po 2000 metų
trukusios
izoliacijos
dešiniarankių
rezervate
10
nebuvo
daugiau
persekiojamas
Lietuvoj
tiesa
15
po karo
mokykloje
braižybos
mokytojas
Kunickis
20
jį mušdavo
su lenta
per ištiestą
galvą
“An Answer to the Martians’
Inquiry” (EN)
(Zdanys 1995: 99)
“An Answer to a Martian
Chronicler” (EN)
(Sruoginis 1997: 71)
descendant
of the dynasty
of the left-handed
Sigitas
Geda 5
after isolation
lasting
2000 years
on the reservation
of the right-handed 10
was no
longer
persecuted
in Lithuania
though
15
after the war
in school
the drawing
teacher
Kunickis
20
would hit him
with a board
on his bowed
head
sole
remaining
survivor
of the
left-handed 5
dynasty
Sigitas
Geda
after a 2000
year 10
isolation
on a reservation
for the right-handed
was
no longer 15
persecuted
in Lithuania
though
after the war
in school
20
drafting
teacher
Kunickis
would
51
beat him 25
with a board
over his
extended
head
Visually, both translations seem to retain the vertical layout of Geda’s poem; however, Sruoginis’
translation is longer than Zdanys’ and the original poem’s. The source text contains 24 lines, with
the same number of lines maintained by Zdanys, while Sruoginis extends the poem by making it 29
lines. One reason is that Sruoginis adds an idea that is not in the original − that Geda is the sole
remaining survivor, which is an example of a free translation. Another issue is differences in word
choice and line-breaks. The original poem has five lines out of 24 that are constructed of more than
one word, while usually they have two words, but this aspect is not easily transferable into English.
The problem arises immediately when translators have to use an article before a noun or a
preposition to indicate relations, as in “po karo” (“after the war”) and “rezervate” (“on the
reservation”). Here the lines become more extended, but Zdanys and Sruoginis manipulate linebreaks to preserve Geda’s unusual visual effect. For instance, Geda’s first line is one word
“kairiarankių,” but translating it into English requires a preposition and an article next to an
adjective; thus, Zdanys translates it as “of the left-handed” (l. 3) and extends a single-word line into
a line of three words. In contrast to Zdanys’ strategy, Sruoginis decides to break the line in a way
that disrupts English grammar norm, in which an article accompanies a noun or an adjective that
modifies a noun: “of the / left-handed” (ll. 4-5); in this case the article “the” is separated from the
word to which it belongs.
Furthermore, Sruoginis tends to break lines in unusual places and even ignores some rules
of English grammar; for example, the sixth line in Lithuanian, “po 2000 metų,” which Zdanys
translates as “lasting / 2000 years” (ll. 7-8), is translated by Sruoginis as “after a 2000 / year” (ll. 910). However, the proper English of the latter translation would be “after 2000 years.” Like
Sruoginis, Zdanys also makes an interesting line-break in the eleventh line, where he breaks the
Lithuanian lines “nebuvo / daugiau” (ll. 11-12). Here Zdanys chooses a more unconventional choice
than Sruoginis, when he follows the combination of Lithuanian words: “was no/ longer” (ll. 11-12).
Yet Sruoginis leaves the verb “was” and moves the word “no” to the next line: “was/ no longer,”
which is easier to read.
One more example of a different choice in translation appears in lines 21 and 22 in
Sruoginis’ and lines 18 and 19 in Zdanys’ texts. Sruoginis omits the article before the modifier of
the noun “teacher.” However, Zdanys obeys English grammar and uses an article, making line 18
longer than in the original: “the drawing / teacher.” Zdanys’ decision to use an article makes the
52
poem more English, while Sruoginis stays closer to the Lithuanian language and makes the poem
sound more foreign.
For the conclusion of the poem, Sruoginis extends the number of lines: instead of three
Lithuanian lines “jį mušdavo / su lenta / per ištiestą” (ll. 21-23), she has five in her translation:
“would / beat him / with a board / over his / extended” (ll. 23-28). Here, Sruoginis prefers to break
lines in a different way than Zdanys so that the word “would” stands alone, where in Zdanys’ case
this word is placed in a single line as “would hit him.” Moreover, Sruoginis moves the word
“extended” into the next line, while Zdanys leaves the word “bowed” in the same line with the
words “on his” (l. 23). Nevertheless, both translators follows Geda in making the last line single
word “galva” / “head.” On the whole, it appears that Zdanys attempts to follow Geda’s line-breaks,
the general layout (the number of lines in the poem) and semantic meaning closer than Sruoginis
does.
As these examples show, translators are aware of the importance of layout and try to
transfer it into English, though the result may not always be so close to the original form. It seems
that translators manage to imitate the most conspicuous formal cues, but at some points differences
of Lithuanian and English languages leave no choice for translators, forcing them to deviate from
the original-text forms. In other cases, translators choose to become creators, selecting a different
layout to present the content of a poem.
5.2.3 Strategies in Translating Alliteration from Lithuanian to English
One of the commonly used sound devices in free-verse writing is alliteration, which can reinforce
the lexical sense or, in most cases, create a specific kind of musicality within a poem. It should be
noted that if a single poem sounds musical, it is only because of a particular sound structure that a
poet creates in one line after another. Thus, since languages differ in their semantic and
phonological resources, the act of translation unavoidably distorts the specific sounds in a poem.
The present analysis is focused on two major strategies that are used in translating Lithuanian freeverse poems: imitation or preservation, and omission plus compensation. First, patterns of
alliteration are identified in four Lithuanian poems written by Nijolė Miliauskaitė and Henrikas
Nagys; then these instances are categorised according to the system suggested in Sub-section 4.3.2.
Since this thesis is on issues in translating free verse, the examples identified are analysed with
reference to their translations. Here the discussion considers whether translators compensate for
losses of specific alliteration in the English text and, if they do, whether the overall impact of a
sound device that is used in a Lithuanian poem is maintained or changed.
53
Nijolė Miliauskaitė is one of the poets discussed in this thesis who uses alliteration to a
great extent; thus, two of her poems are taken as the most appropriate examples for analysing ways
that translators find of rendering the alliteration. The focus is on certain lines from the poem “Lėlių
siuvėja” (“Doll Maker” or “The Doll Maker”), translated by Laima Sruoginis and Jonas Zdanys.
Table 1 provides lines in this poem in which the instances of alliteration are the most conspicuous.
Patterns of alliteration that are discussed are put in bold in the tables.
Table 1
“Lėlių siuvėja” (LT)
(Miliauskaitė1995: 120, ll. 19-22)
kiekviena lėlė vis kitokia, vis kita veido išraiška
pasodini prie veidrodžio Pjero 19
liūdną, blyškų, blizgančiu atlasiniu
20
rūbu, prie lango prieini, pasišnekėt su mėnuliu
jam pasiskųst ir pasiguost:
22
11
21
In general, Miliauskaitė uses a variety of kinds of alliteration, which makes her poem more
melodious, but for the most part, alliteration is created to emphasise certain words that sometimes
are deliberately placed side by side to achieve this sound pattern. For example, “kiekviena lėlė vis
kitokia, vis kita veido išraiška” (l. 11) contains not only phonological alliteration of a consonant
letter ‘k’ in the words “kiekviena; kitokia; kita; išraiška,” but also the strongest semantic
alliteration when the word “vis” appears two times in this line.
Furthermore, this stanza also contains the alliteration of the consonant sounds ‘p’ and ‘b.’
For instance, the first line has three ‘p’ sounds that recur in the initial position of words, of which
the first two follow each other, “pasodini prie.” Such consecutive alliteration of consonants is the
strongest one of all the possible patterns. The same category of alliteration appears in the second
line “blyškų, blizgančiu” when the consonant sound ‘b’ is repeated in initial syllables in words
following each other. In addition, lines 21 and 22 contain strong alliteration, because initial sounds
recur, though in this case in words that do not follow each other: “prie lango prieini”; “pasiskųst ir
pasiguost.” Such an extensive use of plosives creates a specific rhythm in this stanza. Table 2 shows
the two translations made by Jonas Zdanys and Laima Sruoginis of these lines.
54
Table 2
“Doll Maker” (EN)
(Sruoginis 1997: 88, ll. 11-14, 19-23)
“The Doll Maker” (EN)
(Zdanys 2002: 171, ll. 11-14, 19-22)
each doll is always different; her
every doll is always different, the expression on
expressions vary 11
each face
11
as if alive—
always different as if they were alive
hairdos, clothing, everything, yes
hairstyles, clothes, everything and all
everything
suits a person's position, social class
14
suits a social position, a class
14
[…]
[…]
you seat Piero by the mirror—
19
you seat Piero before the mirror 19
sad, pale, in shiny satin
sad, pale, in a shining satin
clothing, you move towards the window
suit, walk to the window to talk to the moon
to talk with the moon
to complain to him, to find comfort:
23
to complain, to seek comfort:
23
It is immediately noticeable that not all the original patterns of alliteration are maintained: some of
them are lost, but compensated elsewhere. For example, the original line, “kiekviena lėlė vis
kitokia, vis kita veido išraiška” (l. 11) which is full of alliterated sounds, is translated by Sruoginis
as “each doll is always different; her expressions vary,” (l. 11) where she succeeds in preserving
alliteration of a consonant sound, though in different words and less strongly than in the Lithuanian
text. Although Sruoginis cannot preserve alliteration in the same lines or words, she compensates
for this loss in the last line of the stanza: “suits a social position, a class” (l. 14), in which she
creates a strong alliteration of the sound ‘s’ in the words “suits a social” and a weaker alliteration in
the words “position, a class,” where the location of the ‘s’ varies within words.
In comparison, Zdanys decides to change the alliteration which appears in the original by
the lexical repetition of the phrase “always different,” which recurs in the second line; this could be
called a strong semantic alliteration: “every doll is always different, the expression on each face /
always different as if they were alive” (l. 11). Like Sruoginis, Zdanys produces alliteration in the last
line of the stanza as well: “suits a person's position, social class,” though Miliauskaitė does not use
any alliteration in this place in her poem. Nonetheless, Zdanys creates the strongest kind of
alliteration in the words “a person's position” where the initial consonant sound ‘p’ recurs in the
successive words. Moreover, he creates a weaker alliteration when he repeats the fricative sound ‘s’
in various positions of the words “social class.”
Furthermore, Table 2 illustrates that Miliauskaitė creates a very strong pattern of
alliteration in lines 19-22. However, neither Sruoginis nor Zdanys manage to preserve the same
kind of alliteration in the same places; still, they do imitate her patterns of alliteration in at least one
place when both translators choose to render Miliauskaitė’s line “jam pasiskųst ir pasiguost:” (l.
55
22) in similar ways; Sruoginis translates it as “to complain, to seek comfort:” (l. 23), while Zdanys
writes “to complain to him, to find comfort:” (l. 22). Indeed, Sruoginis and Zdanys achieve
alliteration of the first syllable in the two verbs as in the Lithuanian text, though their alliteration
is weaker than in Miliauskaitė’s text, for the words “complain” and “comfort” do not immediately
follow one another. The fact that both translators retain alliteration in the two verbs indicates that
they are aware of this particular device used by Miliauskaitė. Zdanys and Sruoginis create other
instances of alliteration, too, but these are not as strong as Miliauskaitė’s. For example, both
translators supply some alliteration in translating the Lithuanian text, “liūdną, blyškų, blizgančiu
atlasiniu” (l. 20), but in different words, Sruoginis translates it as “sad, pale, in shiny satin” (l. 20)
and Zdanys as “sad, pale, in a shining satin” (l. 20); here the first and the last words alliterate, but
this is classed as a very weak alliteration of consonance and assonance. In general, Sruoginis and
Zdanys’ efforts to maintain alliteration wherever possible indicate that they are aware that this
particular feature is significant stylistically in Nijolės Miliauskaitė’s poem “Lėlių siuvėja.”
Another of Miliauskaitė’s poems, “sėdėjo prie pat gatvės” (“Sitting Beside the Very
Street”), also contains a great number of different types of alliteration. Table 3 illustrates some parts
of the original text and its translation, where letters in bold indicate instances of alliteration.
Table 3
“sėdėjo prie pat gatvės” (LT)
(Miliauskaitė 1995: ll. 1-9)
“Sitting Beside the Very Street” (EN)
(Sruoginis 1997: ll. 1-8)
sėdėjo prie pat gatvės
ant aplūžusio suolo apsilaupusiais dažais
sitting beside the very street
on a dilapidated bench, paint peeling
pro šalį ėjo žmonės, zujo vaikai
verkė kūdikis vežimėly prie krautuvės
people stroll past, children scurry
an infant left in a carriage outside a shop wails
tokia nedidele mėlyna berete, kokias nešioja
traktorininkai 5
storu lietpalčiu dar nuo neatmenamų laikų,
guminiais
batais aukštais aulais
wearing3 a small blue beret, the kind tractor
drivers wear 5
a thick raincoat from who knows how long ago,
high rubber boots
sėdėjo ir valgė ledus su vafliais
dar dvi porcijos pasidėtos šalia
he sits, eating ice cream with wafers
two more portions on the bench, beside him
___________________________________
3
Sruoginis’ translation is a little confusing; as the first reading it might be thought that it is the infant who wear the
blue beret, not the person on the bench.
56
Here Miliauskaitė uses quite a variety of repetitions of sounds; for example, the first line contains
the strongest kind of alliteration because the sound ‘p’ recurs in words that follow one another,
“prie pat.” Examples with recurring assonance sounds are the lines: “ant aplūžusio suolo
apsilaupusiais dažais” (l. 2); “pro šalį ėjo žmonės, zujo vaikai” (l. 3) and “batais aukštais aulais” (l.
7). In the first case the repetition of the vowel-sound ‘a’ is a strong one, while the recurrence of the
vowel-sound ‘o’, whose pronunciation differs in words “pro,” “žmonės” and “ėjo,” “zujo” because
the vowel ‘o’ is in a stressed syllable in the first and the second word and an unstressed one in the
third and fourth is weaker. The strongest form of assonance alliteration can be seen in “aukštais
aulais,” and of consonance in “dar dvi,” and “porcijos pasidėtos.” Such a strong alliteration of
various types makes specific lines more melodious and, at the same time, is a binding force in the
whole poem.
Laima Sruoginis tries to provide alliteration in all the places they occur and even adds
some of her own, which indeed evokes a strong sense of patterning and thus reinforces the main
aesthetic effect of the original poem. In the first line Sruoginis creates a weak alliteration when the
consonant sound ‘s’ recurs in various positions in the words, “sitting beside the very street” (l. 1),
though in Lithuanian the two words “prie pat” (l. 1) are an example of the strongest kind of
alliteration. What is more important here is that Sruoginis does not omit this phonological
alliteration and retains a version of it within the same line. However, already in the second line she
manages to compensate for the loss in the first line and also uses an example of the strongest kind
of alliteration in the words “paint peeling,” where the initial sound ‘p’ is repeated in words that are
next to one another. In addition, another instance of the strongest kind of alliteration appears in the
fifth line in the words, “blue beret.” This type of alliteration does not occur in the original text, but
it somewhat compensates for losses that are unavoidable in translating other phrases.
A very useful strategy is used to transfer the strong vowel alliteration in the words
“aukštais aulais” which Sruoginis translates as “high rubber boots” where she produces a weak
consonance instead of the strongest assonance alliteration. The last line “dar dvi porcijos pasidėtos
šalia” (l. 9) is translated by Sruoginis as “two more portions on the bench, beside him” (l. 8).
Although the original text contains two instances of the strongest kind of a consonant alliteration,
Sruoginis does manage to preserve both of these instances; however, she changes their category into
the recurrence of the vowel sound ‘o.’ The next alliteration that appears in words “bench, beside” is
of the same type as in Miliauskaitė’s words “porcijos pasidėtos.”
One more instance of compensation occurs in line 7, “he sits, eating ice cream with
wafers,” which is an example of the strongest kind of a consonant alliteration, not present in the
original line, “sėdėjo ir valgė ledus su vafliais” (l. 8). In the Lithuanian text the consonant sound ‘v’
57
does recur in the initial position of words “valgė” and “vafliais,” but these words do not
immediately follow one another. In general, it could be stated that Sruoginis is as faithful as
possible to the original patterning in the poem and, when she cannot avoid omitting alliteration in
certain places, she mostly compensates for this loss. In this way, to be sure, she changes the
emphasis on certain words in the Lithuanian text.
Henrikas Nagys is another Lithuanian poet who uses a great deal of alliteration. Sound
effects in his poem “Laterna Obscura” are particularly noticeable, for it uses a considerable
phonological and semantic alliteration. The focus here is on phonological alliteration rather than
semantic, since this latter is the subject of the discussion on repetition in Sub-section 5.2.4. Table 4
illustrates the most noticeable instances of alliteration together with their translation by Jonas
Zdanys, but only the more interesting ones are analysed.
Table 4
“Laterna Obscura” (LT)
(Nagys 1960: 41-42)
“Laterna Obscura” (EN)
(Zdanys 1978: 141)
Mudu piešiame vaiko veidą ant pirmojo sniego.
Po laukinių aviečių šakom supa lėlę sesuo.
Lengvą sniegą paklojo nakčia darbininkai ant gruodo
ir dažo derva medinį tiltą per Bartuvą.
Pirmagimis sniegas purus kaip sesers plaukai. 5
Together we trace the child's face in the first snow.
Beneath wild raspberry branches my sister rocks her
doll.
Last night workmen spread light snow on the frozen
ground
and now tar the wooden bridge over the Bartuva.
The newborn snow is light as my sister's hair.
5
Per susigūžusį tuščią Žemaičių kaimą
lekia kazokai, nuogais kalavijais kapodami
baltą bežadę žiemos mėnesiena.
Through the cowering empty Samogitian town
the Cossacks ride, chopping the white mute
moonlight
with their naked swords.
Mudu piešiame brolio veidą ant pirmojo sniego.
Nuomariu serganti sargo duktė sužiedėjusią duoną
trupina kapo duobėn. Kaimietės vaškinį veidą
ir klostyto popieriaus priegalvį sniegas užpusto.
Pro pūgą aidi kimi giesmė ir uždusę varpai.
Per tylų, miegantį, baltą Žemaičių kaimą
lekia kazokai, rimbais ilgais kapodami
medžiuose žėrinčią žydrą žiemos mėnesieną.
10
15
Niekas tavęs nebučiavo labanakčio. Niekas kartu neraudojo
mirusios motinos. Tėvo pakarto nelaidojo niekas.
Tavo žemė buvo tuščia ir nuoga. Tavo žemė, kaip
žemdirbio delnas.
Niekas tavęs karalystėn neleido - pilki apdarai plazdėjo 20
kaip seniai pamirštų pakasynų vėliavos. Maro marškonys.
We trace our brother's face in the first snow.
The guard's epileptic daughter crumbles dry bread 10
into the coffin hole. Snow drifts over the peasant
woman's
wax face and her plaited paper pillow.
Through the snowstorm echo the hoarse hymn and
breathless bells.
Through the soundless sleeping white Samogitian
town
fly the Cossacks, chopping the blue winter moonlight
15
that shimmers in the trees with their long whips.
No one kissed you goodnight. No one wept with you
for your dead mother. No one came to bury your
hanged father.
Your land was empty and naked. Your earth, a
peasant's palm.
No one let you into the kingdom – grey garments
fluttered
20
like long-forgotten funeral flags. Plague linens.
58
Per skurdų Žemaičių kaimą lekia kazokai,
ant iečių ilgų nešdami sukapotą
mėlyną žiemos mėnesieną.
Through the tattered Samogitian town fly the
Cossacks,
carrying the chopped blue winter moonlight
on their long lances.
Skaistų sekmadienio rytmetį spindinčioj žemėj 25
dažo derva darbininkai medinį tiltą per Bartuvą.
Teka giliai po ledu neskubėdama upė į jūrą.
Po aviečių šakom užpustyta miega sesers lėlė.
Mudu piešiame miegančio brolio veidą ant mėlyno sniego.
On a bright Sunday morning in the radiant land 25
workmen tar the wooden bridge over the Bartuva.
Deep beneath the ice the river flows slowly to the
sea.
Under the raspberry branches sleeps my sister's
snow-dusted doll.
Together we trace my sleeping brother's face in the
blue snow.
The alliteration highlighted in Nagys’ text indicates that he seeks to create a conspicuous pattern
which would reinforce images that appear in this poem, but above all, would impart an overall
melodic effect. Thus, a richly assonant effect is achieved in the second and the third lines: “Po
laukinių aviečių šakom supa lėlę sesuo. / Lengvą sniegą paklojo nakčia darbininkai ant gruodo” by
the patterned sequence of the vowel sound ‘a,’ which is an example of the strongest type of
assonance alliteration in this line, for the vowel recurs in the initial stressed syllables of words
“aviečių šakom,” except for the word “supa.” Another special case of the repetition of vowels is the
line repeated three times in the poem with only slight variation, given importance by the fact that it
is both the first and the very last line in the poem, “Mudu piešiame miegančio brolio veidą ant
mėlyno sniego” (l. 30). Here the Lithuanian diphthong ‘ie’ appears in the initial position of two
successive words, as well as in the last word of the line. This sequence of the sound ‘ie’ creates a
subtle network to emphasise these key words in this line.
However, the most prominent use of alliteration as a sound device to achieve a patterning
in the poem is the repetition of consonant sounds in lines like “Pirmagimis sniegas purus kaip
sesers plaukai” (l. 5), “lekia kazokai, nuogais kalavijais kapodami” (l. 7), “Nuomariu serganti sargo
duktė sužiedėjusią duoną” (l. 10), and “Skaistų sekmadienio rytmetį spindinčioj žemėj” (l. 25). The
repetition of the plosive ‘p,’ in line 5 reinforces the image of the first snow, for the sound ‘p,’ when
it is pronounced, gives readers the feeling of lightness and softness. As a contrast to a soothing tone,
the recurrence of another hard plosive sound, ‘k,’ accompanies the images of the Cossacks riding
with their swords and their action of chopping. Furthermore, the repetition of the consonant sound
‘s’ in lines 10 and 26 creates a strong pattern which binds words and phrases within these two lines.
All these instances of alliteration appear in the initial positions of words and thus create a
particularly strong euphonic effect. The sound ‘s’ in line 10 is repeated in a combination with a
changing vowel-sounds, “serganti sargo duktė sužiedėjusią,” and since this alliteration appears in
the stressed syllables, it produces a particular internal recurrence. The repetition of the same sound
59
‘s’ in line 25 is used more as a means of emphasising meaning that are denoted by the words like a
bright morning and the shining or radiant land (“Skaistų sekmadienio rytmetį spindinčioj žemėj”).
A stronger kind of alliteration is used by Nagys in lines 16 and 26: “medžiuose žėrinčią
žydrą žiemos mėnesieną.” and “dažo derva darbininkai medinį tiltą per Bartuvą.” In the first
example, the Lithuanian sound ‘ž’ recurs three times as the strongest kind of alliteration, for the
consonant is repeated in the initial position of three successive words. This strongly-patterned
sequence emphasises the key picture in line 16. Similarly, the strongest kind of phonological
alliteration appears in the second example, in which the consonant sound ‘d’ is repeated in words
that follow one another, “dažo derva darbininkai” to create a kind of rhythm and so link these
words within the line.
As in all translations, it is challenging to find any English words that are both semantically
and phonologically equivalent to Lithuanian ones. Thus, retaining the same-sound alliteration in the
same place is unlikely in Zdanys’ translation of Nagys’ poem “Laterna Obscura.” Nonetheless, after
reading the translation, it appears that Zdanys also creates a number of instances where he manages
to find words that convey the equivalent semantic meaning and at the same time produce very
similar phonological alliteration. For example, the Lithuanian line “Lengvą sniegą paklojo nakčia
darbininkai ant gruodo” (Nagys l. 3) is translated as “Last night workmen spread light snow on the
frozen ground” (tr. Zdanys l. 3). Here Zdanys manages to preserve alliteration in the same line,
though he changes the vowel repetition into one of consonants in words like “spread” and “snow.”
Even more, Zdanys achieves internal rhyme within the words “night” and “light.” In addition, a
weaker type of repetition of the assonance ‘o,’ in words like “snow” and “frozen,” also attributes to
the whole sound patterning of the line.
Although Zdanys does not preserve the strong alliteration in line 7 which appears in the
Lithuanian text, “lekia kazokai, nuogais kalavijais kapodami,” he still tries to compensate for this
loss by at least maintaining a part of it in the same line, though in other words: “the Cossacks ride,
chopping the white mute moonlight” (tr. Zdanys l. 7). Here the alliteration of different words also
appears because of the changes in word order and a different division of the line. Nevertheless, the
strongest form of repetition, here of the consonant sound ‘m,’ contributes to the semantic meaning
of the words “mute” and “moonlight,” for this sound is pronounced with a closed mouth and is
voiceless, which can be related to silence.
Another very clear use of alliteration by Zdanys can be noted in these translated lines:
“wax face and her plaited paper pillow” (l. 12) (“ir klostyto popieriaus priegalvį sniegas užpusto”
(Nagys l. 12)) and “Through the soundless sleeping white Samogitian town” (l. 13), (“Per tylų,
miegantį, baltą Žemaičių kaimą” (Nagys l. 14)). The first example indicates Zdanys’ excellent
choice of words to imitate the original alliteration, for he not only succeeds in preserving the same60
sound alliteration in the equivalent words, but also makes it even stronger when he alliterates three
words that follow one another: “plaited paper pillow,” while in the Lithuanian text there are three
alliterated sounds but only two words “popieriaus priegalvį.”
Line 13 contains a strong type of alliteration of the consonant ‘s’ in words “soundless
sleeping, Samogitian” (tr. Zdanys). However, the same line in the Lithuanian text does not have any
strong pattern of sounds “Per tylų, miegantį, baltą Žemaičių kaimą” (Nagys l. 14). Thus, Zdanys’
alliteration here can be taken as compensation for the loss of the strongest type of repetition in, for
example, the sixteenth line in the same stanza: “medžiuose žėrinčią žydrą žiemos mėnesieną”
(Nagys), for Zdanys did not manage to find words that are semantically equivalent and start with
the same sound, the words in bold are the translated semantic equivalents of the Lithuanian words
that alliterate: “fly the Cossacks, chopping the blue winter moonlight” (l. 14) / “that shimmers in
the trees with their long whips” (l. 15). In contrast to this omission, Zdanys manages to preserve
alliteration in line 21: “like long-forgotten funeral flags. Plague linens,” the same as in Nagys’ text:
“kaip seniai pamirštų pakasynų vėliavos. Maro marškonys” (l. 21). Here Nagys alliterates two
words in the first half of the line, “pamirštų pakasynų,” and the other two in the next half, “Maro
marškonys;” both instances are the strongest kind of alliteration, where the whole initial syllable is
repeated. In comparison, Zdanys follows this Lithuanian pattern and produces the same kind of
alliteration in the matching words, “long-forgotten funeral flags.” Finally, though Zdanys cannot
manage the important assonance alliteration in the last line of Nagys’ poem, “Mudu piešiame
miegančio brolio veidą ant mėlyno sniego,” he does compensate for this in the line before, “Under
the raspberry branches sleeps my sister's snow-dusted doll” (l. 28). Here a strong case of alliteration
of the consonant ‘s’ appears in the words “sleeps my sister's snow-”, while the plosive ‘d’ recurs in
the words “-dusted doll” that allow the translator to link words more strongly within the line.
In conclusion, this comparative analysis of alliteration and its translation indicates that
Jonas Zdanys and Laima Sruoginis very rarely completely omit a sound pattern that is created in the
original poem without compensating for its loss in other places. The translators try to maintain the
alliteration as much as possible in their texts in order, for example, to impart a similar musical
effect or to achieve the same sound associations that are evoked by the original text. Although
Zdanys and Sruoginis do not sacrifice meaning for sound effects, they do their best to create such
effects wherever possible. Necessarily, their systems of alliteration often emphasise different words
than in the Lithuanian text though still maintaining the overall auditory effect on English readers.
61
5.2.4 Translators’ Strategies in Dealing with Repetition
One of the most common stylistic means used by free-verse poets to unify or emphasise sounds,
words, phrases and images in a poem is repetition. Moreover, repetition functions also as a device
to create a rhythmic pattern or a degree of regularity, as well as to pace the reading of a text. Kinga
Klaudy and Krisztina Karoly’s categorisation of repetition, which was discussed in Sub-section 4.2,
has been chosen as a very helpful system in analysing the use of this device in the original
Lithuanian poems and the English translation. This sub-section is based on the analysis of lexical
repetition in Lithuanian texts, in which examples of repetition are first categorised and then their
major functions are identified within a poem. After discussing the Lithuanian source text, a
comparative analysis is provided looking at the translations done by Jonas Zdanys, Laima Sruoginis
and Kerry Shawn Keys of four Lithuanian poems, Nijolė Miliauskaitė’s “Lėlių siuvėja,” Sigitas
Parulskis’ “Šaltis,” Sigitas Geda’s “Angelas krintantis Palangoj” and Henrikas Nagys’ “Laterna
Obscura.” This sub-section also aims at supporting or refuting Rasoul al-Khafaji’s argument that
“avoiding lexical repetition seems to be a common translational norm” (2006: 39) in literary texts.
A good example of the extensive use of repetition is Nijolė Miliauskaitė’s poem “Lėlių
siuvėja” that mainly includes the parallel recurrence of words. Table 1 shows three stanzas of
Miliauskaitė’s poem with highlighted instances of repetition, along with translations made by
Sruoginis and Zdanys.
62
Table 1
“Lėlių siuvėja” (LT)
(Miliauskaitė 1995: 119-120, ll. 1-10)
“Doll Maker” (EN)
(tr. Sruoginis 1997: 88, ll. 1-10)
“The Doll Maker” (EN)
(tr. Zdanys 2002:171, ll. 1-10)
skiautė prie skiautės, atraiža prie atraižos
diena po dienos
shred by shred, pattern by pattern
day after day
scrap by scrap, piece by piece
day after day
kiekviena lėlė vis kitokia, vis kita veido išraiška
lyg būtų gyvos
šukuosena, rūbai, viskas o viskas 5
atitinka žmogaus padėtį, luomą
each doll is always different; her expressions vary
as if alive—
hairdos, clothing, everything, yes everything 5
suits a social position, a class
every doll is always different, the expression
on each face
always different as if they were alive
hairstyles, clothes, everything and all 5
suits a person’s position, social class
tik ar bus kam reikalingos
ar kas įduos
į ištiestas rankas, ar suplaks
smarkiau širdis, iš džiaugsmo
only, does anyone need her?
will anyone deliver her
into out-stretched hands, will anyone’s heart
beat faster, from joy
10
10
but will they be needed by anyone
will someone pass them
into outstretched arms, will a heart
beat faster with joy
10
63
Here the first instance of same-unit lexical repetition is found in the lines, “skiautė prie
skiautės, atraiža prie atraižos / diena po dienos” (ll. 1-2), in which the words “skiautė,” “atraiža”
and “diena” all appear twice and are connected by prepositions “prie,” “prie” and “po,”
respectively. This kind of structure is called parallelism, as the repeated words are placed side by
side and so balance each other. Moreover, through this structure, Miliauskaitė creates a
monotonous repetitive rhythm that not only contributes to the overall mood of the poem, but allows
her to provide a vivid image of the main character, a woman spending many hours over a long
period of time slowly sewing dolls.
Both Sruoginis and Zdanys follow Miliauskaitė’s pattern of phrasing and translate these
two Lithuanian lines in very similar ways: Sruoginis writes “shred by shred, pattern by pattern /
day after day,” while Zdanys translates them as “scrap by scrap, piece by piece / day after day”
(ll. 1-2). The difference between these translations is in the choice of words, since Sruoginis
translates the Lithuanian word “skiautė” as a “shred,” while Zdanys as a “scrap.” The two English
words are near synonyms with connotational differences. However, the word “atraiža,” which
refers to a piece of fabric or cloth, becomes a “pattern” in Sruoginis’ translation and a “piece” in
Zdanys’. Here Sruoginis is freer in her translation, for ‘a pattern’ means “a decorative design, as
for china, wall paper, textile fabrics, etc.” (Webster’s Encyclopedic Dictionary 1996). On the
contrary, Zdanys is more faithful by translating “atraiža” as a “piece” which is “a separate or
limited portion or quantity of something; a shred” (Webster’s Encyclopedic Dictionary 1996).
Nevertheless, both translators maintain repetition of the same kind and in the same places.
Another instance of same-unit simple repetition is the line “kiekviena lėlė vis kitokia, vis
kita veido išraiška” (l. 3), in which the structure of the phrase “vis kitokia” is repeated with a
minor variation, “vis kita.” Here Miliauskaitė emphasises the word “kita” (another) and so makes
the individuality of each doll even stronger. The translations of this line differ because Sruoginis
changes the same-unit simple repetition into a different-unit derived repetition, “each doll is always
different; her expressions vary” (l. 3), so that while the word “different” is an adjective, “vary” is
a verb, but the two words have synonymous meaning. Shifting the word class from adjective to
verb makes her form of repetition less emphatic. As for Zdanys, he retains the same-unit simple
repetition without any variations, though he does not manage to fit it into one line: “every doll is
always different, the expression on each face / always different as if they were alive” (ll. 3-4).
Comparing Sruoginis and Zdanys’ strategies here, Zdanys’ choice to retain same-unit simple repetition is
a more faithful translation of the Lithuanian text, for it produces exactly the same effect: it intensifies the
idea.
One more instance of repetition is line 5, “šukuosena, rūbai, viskas o viskas,” where the
recurrence of the word “viskas” intensifies the emotion expressed in the line. Sruoginis translates it as
64
“hairdos, clothing, everything, yes everything,” repeating the same form of the unit “everything.”
Thus Sruoginis manages to maintain same-unit simple repetition in the same line. On the other had,
though Zdanys retains repetition in the same place, too, he changes it to derived synonymy:
“hairstyles, clothes, everything and all” (l. 5). The pronoun “everything” means “everything or
particular of an aggregate or total; all” (Webster’s Encyclopedic Dictionary 1996), while the
adjective “all” means “the whole of (used in referring to quantity, extent, or duration)” (Webster’s
Encyclopedic Dictionary 1996). Here Zdanys’ synonymous repetition is less emotional than
Sruoginis’ same-unit simple repetition.
Lines seven to nine include one more regular pattern, “tik ar bus kam reikalingos / ar kas
įduos / į ištiestas rankas, ar suplaks” (ll. 7-9): the structure of “ar kam” re-appears as “ar kas” with a
changed case, dative into nominative. Moreover, the particle “ar” occurs three times which suggests
the progression of the thought in these lines. Sruoginis is aware of this repetition, since she
translates the lines as “only, does anyone need her? / will anyone deliver her / into out-stretched
hands, will anyone’s heart” (ll. 7-9). However, Zdanys makes a different choice, staying closer to
the original formally and semantically: “but will they be needed by anyone / will someone pass
them/ into outstretched arms, will a heart” (ll. 7-9). Zdanys, contrary to Sruoginis, retains both
forms of repetition: the future auxiliary “will” stands for the Lithuanian particle “ar,” while the
word “anyone” re-appears in the form of the synonym “someone.” Overall, neither Sruoginis nor
Zdanys omits any repetition found in the source text and, in some cases, they even sacrifice the
semantic equivalence of words to maintain a pattern of repetition.
Another interesting text for the analysis of repetition is Sigitas Parulskis’ poem “Šaltis,”
translated by Laima Sruoginis, “Cold.” In Table 2 instances of repetition are put in bold by the
author of this thesis. The repetition becomes a unifying device in this poem by which Parulskis
draws the readers’ attention to his key images.
Table 2
“Šaltis” (LT)
(Parulskis 1994: 319)
“Cold” (EN)
(tr. Sruoginis 1997: 108)
su motina
kartu su motina
mother
with mother
žengiau į požemius
į rūsį raugtų agurkų
we went underground
into the cellar for pickles
statinėj sudrumstusi vandenį 5
pelėsiais apejusį skystį
motina sakė
the water in the barrel was murky 5
liquid covered with mold
mother said
65
ale šaltas vanduo
šaltas vanduo sakiau aš
but the water’s cold
the water’s cold I repeated
ir iškur šitoks šaltis
10
toks šaltis kad atima ranką
and where does this cold come from 10
so cold my arm loses feeling
gal iš tamsos
iš nakties ar iš žemės
maybe from the dark
from night or from the earth
iš žemės
from the earth
po žeme bus šalčiau
15
beneath the earth it will be even colder 15
Certain words re-appear several times throughout the whole poem, unifying its overall meaning.
These are “šaltis,” repeated five times, “motina”, repeated three times, and “vanduo”, “tamsa,” and
“žemė,” each of which appear twice with some inflectional variations. Most of these repetitions are
simple same-unit recurrences: for example, “su motina / kartu su motina” (ll. 1-2), “ale šaltas
vanduo / šaltas vanduo sakiau aš” (ll. 8-9), and “iš nakties ar iš žemės” / “iš žemės” (ll. 13-14). In
all these cases, the same word is repeated immediately in the next line within the same stanza. Such
a pattern not only creates a degree of regularity, but emphasises principal words. Moreover, the
poem includes a dialogue between a mother and a child, with the use of repetition typical of natural
speech. Sruoginis retains all the instances of repetition in the same lines as in the Lithuanian poem;
“mother / with mother” (ll. 1-2), “but the water’s cold / the water’s cold I repeated” (ll. 8-9), and
“from night or from the earth” / “from the earth” (ll. 13-14). She manages to transfer each
instance of repetition into English easily without changing its category and place.
Parulskis’ use of parallel repetition is also seen in these lines: “ir iškur šitoks šaltis / toks
šaltis kad atima ranką” (ll. 10-11) Here he repeats the same word “šaltis”, but changes the
intensifier “šitoks” into “toks” to make the emphasis even stronger. Sruoginis follows this structure:
“and where does this cold come from / so cold my arm loses feeling” (ll. 10-11). The determiner
“this” is changed and appears as the adverb “so” which, though different in its form, serves the
same affirmative function. A little further in the poem, lines 13 and 14 provide an example of
different-unit repetition, where the word “tamsos” (darkness) becomes “nakties” (from the night):
“gal iš tamsos / iš nakties ar iš žemės.” Darkness is the essential feature of the night, so that this
repetition may be considered as synonymy. Accordingly, Sruoginis translates the line as “maybe
from the dark / from night or from the earth” (ll. 13-14) and also preserves a kind of synonymy
which in this case is used for the purpose of cohesion.
Repetition can be used not only to unify images, but also to juxtapose ideas. Lines
fourteen and fifteen, which are in two different stanzas, show an example of this: “iš žemės” / “po
žeme bus šalčiau.” Here the ideas are juxtaposed by repeating the words “iš” (inside the earth) and
66
“po” (under the earth) which convey, in this context, similar ideas about ‘cold coming from’. The
repetition contrasts the ideas of life and death, which make the conclusion of what seemed a simple
memory of a child’s experience suddenly more profound and shocking. Sruoginis follows Parulskis’
structure by translating the last two stanzas as “from the earth” / “beneath the earth it will be
even colder.” Here the contrast is expressed through the parallel structure using the words “from”
and “beneath,” and repeating the word “the earth”. In general, then, Sruoginis tries to be faithful to
the original text and renders all the instances of repetition by preserving their categories and
functions.
Sigitas Geda’s poem “Angelas krintantis Palangoj,” translated by Jonas Zdanys as “An
Angel Falling in Palanga” and by Kerry Shawn Keys as “Angel Falling in Palanga” is also a good
example of the extensive use of repetition for creating rhythm, emphasising key images and
unifying ideas. Table 3 presents a major part of the poem and the corresponding English
translations. Geda’s repetitions are put in bold in order to provide a general picture of the great
number that are used in this poem. The key word in the title is “an angel,” which normally would be
expected to re-appear at least several times in the poem. However, this word is repeated only twice
in the whole poem, but readers are constantly reminded of the presence of the angel by another
category of repetition that is called metonymy. Geda describes the angel indirectly by referring to
features such as his voice, clothing and wings. Zdanys and Keys are aware of this type of repetition
and manage to retain the recurrences of the relevant words in the same places as in the original.
Geda also uses a good deal of same-unit simple repetition, repeating words and phrases in
very close proximity: “Jo balso / Jo balso – iš balų.” (ll. 8-9), “Lyg lūžtų pasauliai, / Lyg lūžtų
erdvė – iš platinos” (ll. 11-12), “Ir sparnas, ir sparnas,” (l. 20), and “Daugiau jau nebus, /
Daugiau nieko nebus” (ll. 30-31). All these instances of repetition are preserved in the translations,
though with certain variations.
67
Table 3
“Angelas krintantis Palangoj” (LT)
(Geda 2002: 60-62)
“An Angel Falling in Palanga” (EN)
(tr. Zdanys 1995: 111-112)
“Angel Falling in Palanga” (EN)
(tr. Keys 2002: 61-63)
Tai krintančio angelo balsas,
Iš purpuro balų,
Skvernai debesų, debesų
Debesylų − gauruoti.
It was the voice of a falling angel,
From purple bogs,
Skirts of clouds, of clouds,
Shaggy clouds,
It’s the voice of a falling angel,
From the purple – of marshes,
Folds of clouds, clouds,
Cloudberries – shaggy.
Tamsus jo drabužis,
5
Žiedadulkių gausmas,
Sparnuočiai ūmai išbaidyti
Jo balso
Jo balso – iš balų.
His clothing is dark,
5
The droning of blossom dust,
Birds vehemently frightened away
By his voice
By his voice — from the bogs.
Dark clothing.
5
Drone of pollen.
The winged-ones suddenly scared away
By his voice,
His voice – from the marshes.”
– Ir trenksmas,
10
Lyg lūžtų pasauliai,
Lyg lūžtų erdvė – iš platinos,
Akmens, iš aukso
Jo tamsūs sparnai
Šitą erdvę užkloję,
15
Šviesus kalavijas
Ir lūžtančio sparno
Skeveldros −
Tai angelo sapnas – pasaulis,
Ir sparnas, ir sparnas,
20
Šviesus kalavijas – iš sapno.
Iš pieno, iš plieno,
Medaus ir netilstančio
Marių gaudimo
[...]
— — And the noise,
10
As if worlds were breaking,
As if space were breaking — from platinum,
Stone, from gold
His dark wings
Cover this space,
15
The bright sword
And pieces
Of the breaking wing — —
– And the roar,
10
As if worlds were breaking,
As if space were breaking – from platinum,
Stone, from gold
His dark wings
Covering this space,
15
Shining sword
And fragments
Of a wing breaking −
It’s the angel’s dream − the world,
And the wing, and the wing,
20
Shining sword – from the dream.
From milk, from metal,
From honey and the everlasting
Drone of the seas
[…]
Daugiau jau nebus,
30
Daugiau nieko nebus,
[...]
The angel’s dream — the world,
And the wing, and the wing,
20
The bright sword — from the dream.
From milk, from steel,
Honey and the endless
Droning of the seas
[…]
It will no longer be.
30
There will no longer be anything,
[…]
Nothing more no longer,
Nothing more,
[…]
30
68
For instance, Keys stays closer to the Lithuanian text by translating lines eight and nine as “By his
voice, / His voice – from the marshes,” for he repeats the words exactly as Geda does: “jo balso”/
“his voice” without the preposition “by”. On the contrary, Zdanys is less faithful, since he adds the
repetition “by” which is not in the source text: “By his voice / By his voice — from the bogs.”
Further, both Zdanys and Keys render Lithuanian lines 11 and 12 in exactly the same way, “As if
worlds were breaking, / As if space were breaking — from platinum,” repeating the phrase “as if
were breaking” / “lyg lūžtų”. However, differences in English tense and word order make this
repetition longer, for the words “worlds” and “space” interrupt the original sequence “Lyg lūžtų
pasauliai, / Lyg lūžtų erdvė – iš platinos,” (ll. 11-12).
Similarly, Zdanys and Keys translate line 20 as “And the wing, and the wing,” which is a
faithful repetition of the Lithuanian line, “Ir sparnas, ir sparnas.” Different choices are made by
the two translators in translating lines 30 and 31, where Zdanys renders them as “It will no longer
be. / There will no longer be anything,” while Keys writes “Nothing more no longer, / Nothing
more.” Geda repeats only the words “daugiau nebus” which in English would be “will no longer
be”; this matches Zdanys’ translation. On the other hand, Keys chooses another way of translating
these lines, omitting the repetition of the negative form of the verb “nebus” / “will not be” and
putting the phrase “nothing more” in the initial position in lines 30 and 31.
Interesting instances of repetition include the lines “Jo tamsūs sparnai” / “Šviesus
kalavijas” (ll. 14, 16) and “Iš pieno, iš plieno,” (l. 22). They include examples of repetition through
opposites, for the word “tamsūs” (dark) is a binary opposition to the word “šviesus” (light), while
“pieno” (milk) can be seen to a certain extent as an antonym to the word “plieno” (steel): one is
liquid and the other is a metal. In the Lithuanian original, the latter opposition is very strong, for the
words also alliterate and rhyme “pieno” / “plieno”. An attempt is made by Zdanys to follow this
pattern, as he translates lines 14 and 16: “His dark wings” […] “The bright sword”, where he
manages to achieve the strong opposition of the words “dark” and “bright.” Keys makes a similar
decision, “His dark wings” […] “Shining sword,” also using a clear opposition.
Nevertheless, Keys manages to compensate this loss in translating the twentieth line as
“From milk, from metal.” Here he does retain the opposition of words “milk” and “metal,” even
though he sacrifices the precise semantic meaning of the Lithuanian word “steel”, a specific kind of
metal, by changing it into “metal,” a general or superordinate word. Yet in this way he manages to
preserve the strongest form of alliteration that appears in the original by repeating the initial sound
‘m’ in the words “milk” and “metal.” In the same case, Zdanys decides to maintain the strong
opposition, “From milk, from steel,” and so loses the alliteration; “plienas” or ‘steel’ is a
particularly strong kind of metal, while Keys’ reference to ‘metal’ in general does not necessarily
mean steel; thus, English readers of his translation lose the precise connotation in Geda’s poem. So
69
far as repetition is concerned, however, both Zdanys and Keys’ translations maintain all the
instances of Geda’s repetition, even though Keys is less semantically faithful than Zdanys, who also
succeeds to create stronger lexical repetitions. Nevertheless, both translators at some points make
certain variations, as differences between Lithuanian and English make it often impossible to
duplicate Geda’s word order and syntax.
The last poem in this discussion is “Laterna Obscura” by Henrikas Nagys, translated by
Jonas Zdanys. Here Nagys uses repetition mainly to create cohesion and emphasise the key images
in his poem. Table 4 includes instances of major repetitions that are put in bold in order to be more
easily identifiable.
Table 4
“LATERNA OBSCURA” (LT)
(Nagys 1960: 41-42)
“LATERNA OBSCURA” (EN)
(tr. Zdanys 1978: 141)
Mudu piešiame vaiko veidą ant pirmojo
sniego.
Po laukinių aviečių šakom supa lėlę sesuo.
Lengvą sniegą paklojo nakčia darbininkai ant
gruodo
ir dažo derva medinį tiltą per Bartuvą.
Pirmagimis sniegas purus, kaip sesers
plaukai. 5
Together we trace the child’s face in the first snow.
Beneath wild raspberry branches my sister rocks her
doll.
Last night workmen spread light snow on the frozen
ground
and now tar the wooden bridge over the Bartuva.
The newborn snow is light as my sister’s hair. 5
Per susigūžusį tuščią Žemaičių kaimą
lekia kazokai, nuogais kalavijai kapodami
baltą bežadę žiemos mėnesieną.
Through the cowering empty Samogitian town
the Cossacks ride, chopping the white mute moonlight
with their naked swords.
Mudu piešiame brolio veidą ant pirmojo
sniego.
Nuo marių serganti sargo duktė sužiedėjusią
duoną
10
trupina kapo duobėn. Kaimietės vaškinį veidą
ir klostyto popieriaus priegalvį sniegas
užpusto.
Pro pūgą aidi kimi giesmė ir uždusę varpai.
We trace our brother’s face in the first snow.
The guard’s epileptic daughter crumbles dry bread 10
Into the coffin hole. Snow drifts over the peasant
woman’s
wax face and her plaited paper pillow.
Through the snowstorm echo the hoarse hymn and the
breathless bells.
Per tylų, miegantį, baltą Žemaičių kaimą
lekia kazokai, rimbais ilgais kapodami
15
medžiuose žėrinčią žydrą žiemos mėnesieną.
Through the soundless sleeping white Samogitian
town
fly the Cossacks, chopping the blue winter
moonlight 15
that shimmers in the trees with their long whips.
70
Niekas tavęs nebučiavo labanakčio. Niekas
kartu neraudojo
mirusios motinos. Tėvo pakarto nelaidojo
niekas.
Tavo žemė buvo tuščia ir nuoga. Tavo žemė,
kaip žemdirbio delnas.
Niekas tavęs karalystėn neleido — pilki apdarai
plazdėjo, 20
Kaip seniai pamirštų pakasynų vėliavos. Maro
marškonys.
No one kissed you goodnight. No one wept with you
For your dead mother. No one came to bury your
hanged father
Your land was empty and naked. Your earth,
a peasant’s palm.
No one let you into the kingdom – grey garments
fluttered
20
Like long-forgotten funeral flags. Plague linens.
Per skurdų Žemaičių kaimą lekia kazokai,
ant iečių nešdami sukapotą
mėlyną žiemos mėnesieną.
Through the tattered Samogitian town fly the
Cossacks,
carrying the chopped blue winter moonlight
on their long lances.
Skaistų sekmadienio rytmetį spindinčioj
žemėj 25
Dažo derva darbininkai medinį tiltą per
Bartuvą.
Teka giliai po ledu neskubėdama upė į jūrą.
Po aviečių šakom užpustyta miega sesers lėlė.
Mudu piešiame miegančio brolio veidą ant
mėlyno sniego.
On a bright Saturday morning in the radiant land 25
workmen tar the wooden bridge over the Bartuva.
Deep beneath the ice the river flows slowly to the sea.
Under the raspberry branches sleeps my sister’s
snow-dusted doll.
Together we trace my sleeping brother’s face in the
blue snow.
A closer look at the poem shows that the key images are ‘snow,’ ‘sister’s doll,’ ‘brother’ and
‘winter.’ In particular, the poem is full of references to winter, for although the word itself is
repeated only three times, there are other words that are associated with it: “sniegas,” “balta,”
“pūga,” “užpusto,” “ledu” “spindinčioj žemėj” and “užpustyta” (when it is very cold, light snow
usually glistens). This kind of repetition is called metonymy. Zdanys manages to retain all the
instances of these repetitive references to winter: “snow,” “white,” “snowstorm,” “snow drifts
over,” “ice,” “radiant land” and “snow-dusted,” relatively. Such metonymous repetition creates a
very specific landscape of the poet’s homeland.
Line 19 offers an instance of same-unit repetition: “Tavo žemė buvo tuščia ir nuoga.
Tavo žemė, kaip žemdirbio delnas.” Here the phrase “Tavo žemė” appears in the strong initial
position of each sentence, which intensifies the significance of “a person’s native land” and
contributes to the overall image of the land so strongly used in this poem. Accordingly, Zdanys
stays faithful to Nagys’ thematic construction and preserves the repetition in the same initial
position although he uses a synonym: “Your land was empty and naked. Your earth, a peasant’s
palm.”
In addition, Nagys uses very strong repetition when the first line of the poem, with some
variations, occurs two more times within the poem: “Mudu piešiame vaiko veidą ant pirmojo
sniego” (l. 1), “Mudu piešiame brolio veidą ant pirmojo sniego” (l. 9) and “Mudu piešiame
miegančio brolio veidą ant mėlyno sniego” (l. 28, the last line). The differences in these lines are
71
put in bold; thus, “vaiko” / “child’s” becomes “brolio” / “brother’s” and then “miegančio brolio” /
“sleeping brother’s,” while “pirmojo sniego” / “the first snow” becomes “mėlyno sniego” / “blue
snow.” Since this opening line re-appears as the last line, it frames the poem and gives it a clear
closure in a circular fashion. Another example of very strong repetition appears in the fifth stanza;
its function is to intensify the thought: “Niekas tavęs nebučiavo labanakčio. Niekas kartu neraudojo
/ mirusios motinos. Tėvo pakarto nelaidojo niekas.” / “Niekas tavęs karalystėn neleido — pilki
apdarai plazdėjo,” (ll. 17-18, 20). Here the occurrence of the word “niekas” (no one) four times, and
three times as first in the sentence, strengthens the idea of the person being completely alone and
abandoned. Zdanys achieves a faithful same-unit repetition and even makes it stronger than in the
original, for the phrase “no one” now recurs in the initial position of each line: “No one kissed you
goodnight. No one wept with you / For your dead mother. No one came to bury your hanged father”
/ “No one let you into the kingdom – grey garments fluttered” (ll. 17-18, 20). A difference appears
in line 18 where the word “niekas” (“no one”) comes at the end of the line in the Lithuanian text,
but at the beginning in the English text. Here Zdanys has to follow English word order, subjectverb-object, since “no one” is the subject of the sentence.
This detailed analysis of instances of repetition shows that the Lithuanian free-verse poets
use same-unit repetition the most extensively in comparison to other kinds of repetition. However,
synonymy, opposition and metonymy are also commonly used categories of repetition in these
poems. The translators are aware of all the instances of repetition and try to preserve them in the
same places. However, in certain cases, Jonas Zdanys, Kerry Shawn Keys and Laima Sruoginis
have to deal with semantic and grammatical differences of Lithuanian and English, which cause
some variations in their transference of repetition. Nevertheless, all these translators achieve similar
functions of repetitions and maintain the overall effect of recurrences. All of the translators try not
to omit important repetitions and, if this happens, as in Keys’ case, then he compensates for the loss
in another place in the poem. Thus, Rasoul al-Khafaji’s assertion that translators tend to avoid
lexical repetition in literary texts is not true in Zdanys, Keys and Sruoginis’ translations of the
Lithuanian free-verse texts. One may speculate that avoiding repetition is less likely in these
translation of poetry than prose, since the repetitions are often essential to the structure, meaning
and sound system of a poem, as in all four of these texts.
6. CULTURE-SPECIFIC ITEMS IN SOME FREE-VERSE POEMS: CATEGORIES AND
TRANSLATION ISSUES
Since literary translation involves two different languages and cultures, in this case, Lithuanian and
English, the translators have to decide to what extent they will transfer Lithuanian culture in order
72
to communicate similar or at least comprehensible cultural messages to English readers. Although
some cultural references are specific to Lithuanian culture, others belong to Western culture in
general. This section consists of two sub-sections: the first one categorises culture-specific items
that are identified in selected Lithuanian free-verse poems, while the second provides an analysis of
the translation strategies used for specific cultural references.
6.1 Categorising Culture-Specific Items in Lithuanian Free-Verse Poems
This section defines and categorises culture-specific items in the Lithuanian free-verse poems
selected for the analysis. It starts with a brief discussion of how language is used as a means of
communicating cultural messages. Then a definition of the term “culture-specific item” and its
categorisation, with examples from poems, is provided.
In general, language is commonly perceived as a medium of culture but, at the same time,
it can be called a product of culture as well. Therefore, a text written in a specific language is coded
with cultural meanings that are overt and hidden messages about traditions, values and the everyday
life of a particular culture. Three similar definitions provide an explanation of what is referred to as
culture-specific items. First, Maria Tymoczko treats them as “metonymic evocations of the culture
as the whole, including its material culture, history, customs and values (1999: 45). In a more
detailed way, Peter Newmark points out that “cultural words are peculiar to a community that uses a
particular language as its means of expression; [thus], there will be a translation problem due to the
cultural ‘gap’ or ‘distance’ between [different language cultures]” (1992: 94). Eirlys E. Davies
define culture-specific items in a fairly similar way by noting that these are “customs and norms of
a culture [that are] acceptable to its members, [but] when transferred to [another culture can] pose a
translation problem due to the nonexistence or to the different value of the given item in [that]
culture” (2002: 68). Meanwhile, Javier Franco Aixela focuses on the translation issues raised by
culture-specific items:
Those textually actualized items whose function and connotations in a source text involve a
translation problem in their transference to a target text, whenever this problem is a product
of the nonexistence of the referred item or of its different intertextual status in the cultural
system of the readers of the target text. (1996: 58)
According to Newmark, cultural entities are “bound to a particular culture” (1992: 94)
because they represent a specific way of life and the social and historical development that is
characteristic to a concrete historical community (1992: 94-97). He further explains that culturespecific items are words “loaded with unique cultural information that may be alien to any other
culture except for a culture in which the entity exists” (Newmark 1992: 94); moreover, many
culture-specific items have “a narrow sense” (Newmark 1992: 94), which is foreign to readers from
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other cultures. However, a number of cultural words are less exotic than others: Newmark calls
these “universals, cultural entities that are shared by many cultures in the Western world” (1992:
94) and therefore pose few problems for readers from other cultures.
Lithuanian free-verse poems contain some culture-specific items that, using Davies’ terms,
create “naturalness” and “familiarity” (2003: 69) to Lithuanian readers and “exoticism or
strangeness” (2003: 69) to, for example, English readers. However, culture-specific items that are
very Lithuanian are not that common in the poems under discussion in this thesis. Those that appear
can be grouped in three broad categories: culture-specific items belonging to Western culture;
Lithuanian geographical names; and other Lithuanian culture-specific items.
A number of words in the Lithuanian free-verse poems that are chosen for this thesis are
culture-specific items that come from the Western cultural tradition. Since cultures do not exist in a
vacuum without influencing one another, many aspects of life have been transferred from Western
culture into another, depending on how close these cultures have been during different historical
periods. One of the broadest aspects unifying many linguistic cultures is religion. For instance, both
cultures, Lithuanian and English, belong to the same Western Christian religion (Roman
Christianity until the 16th century) (Penguin Dictionary of Religions 1984). However, “the 16th
century reformation and counterreformation split the Western Church into Roman Catholicism and
Protestantism” (Penguin Dictionary of Religions 1984). Lithuania remained with what became
known as Roman Catholicism, while the United States, for example, became more Protestant.
Examples of Christian culture-specific items appear in the poems “auksinį plauką” (“I found a
golden hair”) by Nijolė Miliauskaitė and “Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse” (“Trash Truck in Justiniškės”)
by Sigitas Geda. The first poem contains the culture-specific word “Kalėdos” (Christmas) while the
second has the proper name “Dovydo” (King David). According to The New Encyclopaedia
Britannica, the word Christmas originated from Old English and means the “Christian festival that
is celebrated on December 25, commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ” (1998). A more detailed
explanation of this vocabulary is provided in Sub-section 6.2 together with a comparative analysis.
The reference to King David is taken from the Old Testament of the Bible in which he is presented
as a shepherd who becomes a king of Israel. According to The New Encyclopaedia Britanica, his
life and victories are depicted in three biblical sources: the Psalms, the Book of Samuel and the
Book of Chronicles (1998).
Another example of a culture-specific item that comes from Western tradition appears in
Nijolė Miliauskaitė’s poem “Lėlių siuvėja” (“Doll Maker”). Here the proper name “Pjero” (Piero or
Pierrot), which comes specifically from the Italian and French comic theatrical tradition, is used to
describe a doll in a specific costume. The Lithuanian word “Pjero” is taken from Italian “Piero”
(American Heritage Dictionary 1992) and phonologically adapted to the Lithuanian language.
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According to this source, “Pierrot” (in French) is “a male character in certain French pantomime,
having a whitened face and wearing a loose white fancy costume” (American Heritage Dictionary
1992). The name originated in Italian comedy where Piero is a character in many tales and has
connotations of inferiority and humour (American Heritage Dictionary 1992). His appearance is
depicted in the poem; thus, the reference is easily understandable to any source-text reader who is
an educated person. The translation of this word is discussed in Sub-section 6.2.
Another category of culture-specific items, however, would not be familiar to nonLithuanian readers; these are Lithuanian geographical names, mainly references to rivers, towns,
and regions. The examples of rivers are “Rausvė” from Nijolė Miliauskaitė’s poem “auksinį
plauką” (“I found a golden hair”) and “Bartuva” in Henrikas Nagys’ poem “Laterna Obscura.”
There is one reference to the resort town of Lithuanian, Palanga, in Sigitas Geda’s poem “Angelas
krintantis Palangoj” (“Angel Falling in Palanga”). Furthermore, Nagys mentions “Žemaičių kaimą”
(Samogitian town) which reminds Lithuanian readers of a specific region. The title of Geda’s poem
“Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse” (“Trash Truck in Justiniškės”) contains the proper noun “Justiniškės”
which refers to a residential part of the city of Vilnius and implies the author’s closeness with his
Lithuanian readers. Although these references would be unfamiliar to English readers, at least the
context makes it clear that they are rivers and place names. All these culture-specific items and their
translation choices are analysed in Sub-section 6.2.
More problematic culture-specific items belong to the last category which includes such
realias that are highly specific to Lithuanian culture. Indeed, it is not surprising that usually
European cultures would not have the same image of an entity and would not share equal or similar
traditions. Some of the selected free-verse poets use cultural items which are unique to Lithuanian
cultural tradition and history so that they have no equivalent in English-speaking culture or in its
language, either. An example of such a case appears in Geda’s poem “Atsakymas į marsiečių
užklausimą” (“An Answer to a Martian Chronicler”) which contains Lithuanian names and
surnames such like “Sigitas Geda” and “Kunickis” (Geda 1988: 10). In the first example the poet
refers to himself, which signals to all readers that the poem has autobiographical elements. The
surname “Kunickis” would be recognised by Lithuanian readers only as being Lithuanian and to the
extent to which he is depicted in the poem as Geda’s drawing teacher.
This same poem also refers to some cultural features of earlier times in Lithuania: “jį
mušdavo / su lenta / per ištiestą / galvą” (“would hit him / with a board / on his bowed / head”)
(Geda ll. 21-24, tr. Zdanys ll. 21-24). Physical punishment of pupils was common both in English
and Lithuanian schools in the first half of the 20th century, but in English-speaking countries it
would have involved hitting a child’s hand or bottom, not a head4. Another problematic instance is
______________________
4
The author of this thesis thanks Dr. Milda Danytė for this information.
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the Lithuanian word “lenta” which translation may be misleading to English readers (“a board”). In
this context the Lithuanian word can refer to a piece of wood or to a blackboard in schools. Since
the poem depicts the 1940s, it is likely that Geda refers to a slate which was extensively used as a
small individual blackboard on which students wrote with chalk: this was especially practised in
Lithuanian countryside at that time. The translation choice of this word is discussion in more details
in Sub-section 6.2.
Good examples of Lithuanian culture-bound references can be seen in Nagys’ poem
“Laterna Obscura” in which he uses a number of references to archaic customs that arouse similar
emotions in Lithuanian and English readers. The poem depicts earlier times which, even for the
Lithuanian reader could be difficult to visualise because cultural traditions change together with
generations, and even within a generation; therefore, such cultural realia as “klostyto popieriaus
priegalvį” (“plaited paper pillow”) in a coffin, “pakasynų vėliavos” (“funeral flags”) and “Maro
marškonys” (“Plague linens”) (Geda 1960: 41-42, tr. Zdanys 1996) are archaic terms that are not
used in contemporary Lithuanian society. For this reason, it could be stated that in these cases both
the source-text and the target-text readers will imagine a similar picture of a reality which seems
very distant from their own experience.
Finally, all these instances of culture-specific items are important to discuss within
translation analysis, since Jonas Zdanys, Laima Sruoginis and Kerry Shawn Keys have to make
certain choices in translating both simple and more problematic cases of culture-bound references.
Thus, Sub-section 6.2 is aimed at the discussion of the translation issues that arise while transferring
these culture-specific items.
6.2 Translation Issues in Rendering Lithuanian Culture-Specific Items
It is interesting to see how translators treat the culture-specific items that have been idicated in Subsection 6.1 and then to identify translation tendencies in their rendering of Lithuanian culturespecific items. Accordingly, Eirlys E. Davies’ seven translation procedures and Lawrence Venuti’s
concepts of domestication and foreignisation are applied to this discussion.
Undoubtedly, the least problematic translation of cultural references is that of universals,
in this case, as those that come from Western culture. The first such culture-specific items are taken
from Christian religious knowledge: “Kalėdos” (Christmas) and “Dovydo” (David’s). These
culture-specific items appear in the poems “auksinį plauką…” (“I found a golden hair”) by Nijolė
Miliauskaitė and “Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse” (“Trash Truck in Justiniškės”) by Sigitas Geda. Jonas
Zdanys translates the Lithuanian word “Kalėdos” as “Christmas Day”: “on his back, on Christmas
Day” (l. 8) (“aukštielninkas, per pačias Kalėdas” (l. 8)). Here Zdanys chooses to translate the word
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with an English equivalent; however, he makes two words out of the single Lithuanian word by
adding the noun “Day.” In English both terms are common, but the expression “on Christmas Day”
makes it clear that it is not “Christmas Eve” which is a more important celebration than “Christmas
Day” for Lithuanians, unlike most English-speaking people. Nevertheless, Zdanys renders this
cultural reference without any difficulties, because English-speaking people have very similar
general associations for Christmas as Lithuanians have.
Another unproblematic instance of a culture-specific item is the proper name “Dovydo,”
which Carry Shawn Keys translates as “David’s” (“with King David’s” / “sykiu su karaliaus
Dovydo” (l. 13)). Since this religious name comes from the Bible, it is likely that educated English
readers will know who it refers to. Even so, it may be that this name will not arouse any specific
religious connotations to many Lithuanian and English readers, only that the person is a king, as is
stated in the poem, for religious knowledge is getting weaker in both cultures. Since the name has
an equivalent translation in English, Keys simply adds a possessive case (’s) to the name,
“David’s,” instead of the Lithuanian ending ‘o,’ “Dovydo.” The only difference in Key’s translation
of the phrase “karaliaus Dovydo” is that, according to English rules, he has to capitalise the word
“King.”
One more example of a culture-specific item that comes from the Western tradition is the
proper noun “Pjero” appearing in Nijolė Miliauskaitė’s poem “Lėlių siuvėja” (“Doll Maker”). Here
Laima Sruoginis and Jonas Zdanys translate “Pjero” (“pasodini prie veidrodžio Pjero -” (l. 19)) as
“Piero”, (“you seat Piero before the mirror” (tr. Zdanys l. 19) / “you seat Piero by the mirror—” (tr.
Sruoginis l. 19)). The name is simply translated into English, using the original Italian form. Both
Lithuanian and English readers with good cultural knowledge will have very similar images of
Piero, who is a well-known comic character from Italian and French theatrical tradition. Moreover,
the context of the original poem provides sufficient information for readers who might not know
Piero. Miliauskaitė makes it clear that this is a doll with a sad and pale face, major features of the
Piero character. Thus both Zdanys and Sruoginis follow Miliauskaitė’s text and do not add a
footnote or other explanation of the proper name.
In comparison to references from Western culture, specific geographical names are more
demanding to translate, for they are culturally marked references to towns, rivers, and the like. The
most common references that are found in the Lithuanian free-verse poems are places-name. Such
examples as Sigitas Geda’s poems “Angelas krintantis Palangoj” (“Angel Falling in Palanga”) and
“Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse” (“Trash Truck in Justiniškės”) contain two culture-specific items,
“Palanga” and “Justiniškėse.” Both these words refer to very specific Lithuanian places that are
unlikely to be known by English readers; only the context of the poems shows them that these are
some kind of place-names. The first proper noun, “Palanga,” is preserved in the title by both Zdanys
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and Keys: “An Angel Falling in Panaga” (tr. Zdanys) and “Angel Falling in Palanga” (tr. Keys). A
detailed discussion of this translation has been provided in Sub-section 5.2.1 on the translation of
titles. Here, however, it is worth mentioning that Zdanys, in contrast to Keys, provides English
readers with an external explicitation (“addition,” in Davies’s terms) of the place name “Palanga”
by adding a footnote: “Palanga: Lithuanian resort town on the Baltic Sea” (Zdanys 1995: 113). In
this way Zdanys domesticates the title, because his explanation of the word “Palanga” makes it less
exotic and more expressive for English readers.
On the other hand, Keys foreignises the English title, for he does not give any additional
clarification of where “Palanga” is or what kind of town it is. Similarly, the place name
“Justiniškėse” is also preserved by Keys in the title without any additional explanation; here again
Keys foreignises the English title. Furthermore, another instance of a place name is the reference to
“Žemaičių kaimą” (Samogitian town) in Henrikas Nagys’ poem “Laterna Obscura.” Though Zdanys
translates this place name with an English equivalent, still “Samogitian” probably does not arouse
any associations for English readers.
In addition to place names, there are two references to rivers, the “Rausvė” in Nijolė
Miliauskaitė’s poem “auksinį plauką” (“I found a golden hair”) and the “Bartuva” in Henrikas
Nagys’ poem “Laterna Obscura.” Both these proper nouns are preserved by Zdanys, only the ending
‘ą’ is changed into ‘a’ in the “Bartuva” (“Bartuvą”). English readers would immediately understand
that the “Rausvė” is a river because of the context: “he rested here once upon a time / near the
Rausvė” (ll. 6-7) (“tai čia kitados jis ilsėjos / prie Rausvės” (ll. 6-7)). The same strategy is used by
Zdanys in his translation of “Laterna Obscura,” in which he preserves the river name “Bartuva”:
“workmen tar the wooden bridge over the Bartuva” (l. 26), (“dažo derva darbininkai medinį tiltą per
Bartuvą” (l. 26)). Here the word “bridge” lets readers know that “Bartuva” means a river. Zdanys’
decision to not provide any additional information indicates his belief that these names are not
especially significant and that the readers’ general understanding of them should be enough within
the overall meaning of the poems.
One more category of problematic culture-specific items is personal names. In the poems
being discussed, there are only two examples of names, “Sigitas Geda” and “Kunickis,” both in
Sigitas Geda’s poem “Atsakymas į marsiečių užklausimą” (“An Answer to a Martian Chronicler”).
Zdanys and Sruoginis preserve the full name, “Sigitas Geda” and the surname, “Kunickis,” which
can be viewed as examples of foreignisation, since neither translator provides any explanation for
these cultural references. Nevertheless, English readers will comprehend that these are the
references to particular people. For instance, Lithuanian and English readers will see that the
“Sigitas Geda” in the text is the author of the poem “Atsakymas į marsiečių užklausimą,” which
they are reading. However, many Lithuanian readers will be familiar with Geda more specifically:
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they might have seen him on television or read about him in some newspaper or magazine, as he
was a major literary figure. For English readers, the name does not evoke anything. The surname
“Kunickis,” on the other hand, will have the same impact on both Lithuanian and English readers,
for they will know from the context that it refers to Sigitas Geda’s drawing teacher when he was a
child. Translators could have chosen to provide a footnote with pertinent information about Geda,
but chose a more foreignised translation.
Other instances of cultural references are archaic words which, even to Lithuanian readers,
can be difficult to understand. The three most interesting examples of such cultural realia appear in
Nagys’ poem “Laterna Obscura”: “klostyto popieriaus priegalvį,” “pakasynų vėliavos” and “Maro
marškonys” (Geda 1960: 41-42). All these phrases contain vocabulary that refers to people’s
everyday reality at a particular historical period in Lithuania. However, this reality has changed
together with the vocabulary, for Lithuanians no longer need these words in their everyday
language. Here Zdanys tries to be faithful and retain this archaic vocabulary by translating “klostyto
popieriaus priegalvį” as “plaited paper pillow” (l. 12). The word “plaited” has the meaning of
“pleated” (“klostyto”) but the translation of the Lithuanian word “priegalvį” loses its archaic
connotation because a “pillow” is an everyday word in English (“pagalvė” in Lithuanian), while
“priegalvį” is now rarely used and has specific connotations of the past.
Similarly, the translation of the phrase “pakasynų vėliavos” as “funeral flags” also loses
connotations of archaism, because “pakasynų” in Lithuanian is an old-fashioned word for ‘funeral’
(Dabartinės lietuvių kalbos žodynas 2000), while “funeral” in English is the ordinary contemporary
word. Moreover, “pakasynų” has a very strong effect in the context of other words and helps to
create an older, more formal style of writing. Finally, Zdanys translates “Maro marškonys” as
“Plague linens,” where the Lithuanian archaic word “marškonys” refers to a linen garment or
simply to a linen cloth (Bajoraitis 1959: 410-412). This word is no longer used in the common
spoken language and appears usually only in literature. In the Western tradition “linens” are
“clothing, bedding, made of linen cloth” (Webster’s Encyclopedic Dictionary 1996). Although the
word “marškonys” sounds strange, but not incomprehensible, to Lithuanian readers, its translation
“linens” loses this effect, for English readers will not recognise it as being remote from ordinary
use. Accordingly, Zdanys’ vocabulary becomes less stylistically expressive, though he is faithful
semantically to the original.
Unlike these archaisms, the last example has an archaic meaning but a common form.
Sigitas Geda’s poem “Atsakymas į marsiečių užklausimą” (“An Answer to a Martian Chronicler”)
includes the culture-specific item “lenta” (a board), which here refers to a very specific period when
young pupils wrote on a small tablet with a wooden frame, for paper was too expensive: the word in
English is “slate.” The problem here is that the Lithuanian word “lenta” has several meanings, but it
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clearly refers to a slate in the context of the poem. However, both Zdanys and Sruoginis translate
the Lithuanian word “lenta” with the word “board,” which generally means as a dictionary explains,
“a piece of wood sawed thin and of considerable length, and breadth compared with the thickness; a
plank” (Webster’s Encyclopedic Dictionary 1996). The only similarity between a slate and a board
is that they have a flat and rigid surface. Thus, Zdanys translates lines 21-24, “jį mušdavo su lenta
per ištiestą galvą” as “would hit him / with a board / on his bowed / head” (ll. 21-24) and Sruoginis
as “would / beat him / with a board / over his / extended / head” (ll. 24-29). It is unlikely that
English readers will immediately realise that “a board” here really means a slate. However, such a
misleading word choice can be treated as a faithful translation, for Geda also uses the general word
“lenta” (a board) in an odd way, to refer to a specific object used by pupils to write on.
These examples indicate that translators make different decisions while dealing with
culture-specific items, though they try to be consistent in their choices throughout a poem. Although
references that belong to Western culture and place names pose few translation problems, this is not
the case with words that are archaic in form and meaning. Still, Jonas Zdanys’ decision to translate
the meaning of words and to exclude the connotation of their outdated usage, affects the overall
tone and style of Henrikas Nagys’ poem “Laterna Obscura.” The most common tendency in dealing
with culture-specific items among these translators is domestication, for they usually either slightly
adapt the preserved item phonologically or provide some additional explanation. It has been noted
that, if a culture-specific item is not very important to the understanding of the overall meaning or
its meaning is easily deduced from the context, then translators provide no explanation for English
readers. Here the translation of poetry differs from that of literary prose, since translators cannot
easily use internal explicitation to render culture-specific items, for this would seriously disrupt the
flow of a poem.
7. CONCLUSION
This discussion of free verse as a non-standard poetic form has indicated several ways in which it
differs from metrical or rhymed verse. Though free-verse poets do not use traditional patterns to
create regularity and musicality in their poems, they do apply other linguistic and sound devices
that, in some cases, appear just as stylistically complex as the traditional ones. Therefore, translating
free verse requires knowledge about its characteristic features, for translators have to be careful not
to overlook less prominent, but very important patterns in the original poem. Since the thesis aims
at discussing only syntactic, formal and cultural aspects, semantic meaning is not highlighted except
when discussing the translation of titles and culture-specific items. The comparative analysis of the
Lithuanian originals and their translations has been carried out on the basis of Lawrence Venuti’s
approach to literary translation: two general translation procedures, foreignisation and
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domestication, are considered when commenting on the specific decisions that are made in
rendering Lithuanian texts into English. However, in some cases Venuti’s concepts do not always
seem appropriate or complete, so that the older notion of a “faithful” translation is useful. In
addition, some of Eirlys E. Davies’ specific strategies have been chosen in order to indicate more
concrete strategies that are used by some translators, mainly in rendering culture-specific items or
translating the titles of the original poems.
The present research has found four formal and syntactic features to be the most typical in
the selected Lithuanian free-verse poems: these commonly used devices by Henrikas Nagys, Sigitas
Geda, Nijolė Miliauskaitė, Antanas A. Jonynas and Sigitas Parulskis are layout, alliteration and
repetition, while unusual line-breaks are less prominent. So far as layout is concerned, Geda’s,
Miliauskaitė’s and Parulskis’ poems are good examples that show how these poets manipulate form
to control the reading pace and create additional emphasis. Another important aspect of layout is the
arrangement of a poem on a page. The majority of these Lithuanian poems have irregular forms that
provide different visual effects. However, many of the poems are organised in stanzas regular or
irregular ones, while others, such as Geda’s poem “Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse,” have sight stanzas
and one Geda’s poem “Atsakymas į marsiečių užklausimą” has no stanzaic pattern. The analysis of
the English translations has shown that, in many ways, translators try to retain the original layout on
the page. Still, one poem has been translated in a way that has altered or even distorted the original
layout: this is Antanas A. Jonynas’ poem “Gaisras” as translated by Zdanys in co-operation with
Antanas Danielius and Craig Czury. In this way, they have lost Jonynas’ sonnet form by distorting
his stanzaic pattern.
The discussion on line-breaks has shown that in these poems the Lithuanian poets tend to
use end-stopped lines more often than run-on ones, which indicates that normal syntactic chains are
preferred. Certain interesting line-breaks have been noted in Miliauskaitė’s poem, “Lėlių siuvėja”
which both Zdanys and Laima Sruoginis try to maintain, though sometimes they have to follow
English grammar and change the order of elements in two or more lines.
As has also been indicated, one of the most extensively used formal devices by these
Lithuanian free-verse poets is alliteration. Among the kinds of alliteration, it appears that the
strongest type, when an initial sound or syllable is repeated in the same line, is the most favoured
among these poets. Generally, alliteration, assonance or consonance serve mainly for emphasis or to
create a rhythmic pattern. Many instances of alliteration are maintained by the translators discussed,
even though in different words or lines. If translators cannot reproduce the same kind of alliteration,
they often manage to change it into a weaker one, while further on in the text, they compensate for
this loss by creating a stronger type of alliteration where it may not exist in the source text. The
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most important is that these translators do their best to produce the same over-all effect that is
created by the use of alliteration in a specific text.
Repetition is another extensively used device that is found in these Lithuanian free-verse
poems. Applying Kinga Klaudy and Krisztina Karoly’s categorisation of repetition, it has been
noted that the use of same-unit repetition is the kind of repetition preferred by these poets, as it
allows them to emphasise key images, intensify emotions or unify a whole poem. Other categories
of repetition are the use of opposites and metonymy that help to juxtapose or to unify images,
respectively. The use of synonymous repetition also allows emphasising key ideas. The analysis of
these translations has shown that all the translators manage to maintain essential repetitions, though
with certain variations. Here, as with alliteration, Zdanys, Sruoginis and Kerry Shawn Keys tend to
compensate for any omitted repetition by creating their own with different words and at different
places in the poem.
The final part of the thesis has focused on cultural references. Though the Lithuanian poets
analysed use a variety of cultural references, these are not very numerous, and, in many cases, not
absolutely vital to a general understanding of the poem. In most instances, the translators preserve
culture-specific items with minor phonological adjustments. However, if they think that a culturespecific item is important to comprehend a poem, then, for instance, Zdanys uses a footnote. The
least demanding translation is that of Western cultural references, for all the translators apply the
same strategy of simply changing the Lithuanian term with the existing equivalent in English. On
the contrary, a more challenging translation is that of archaic words; for instance, Henrikas Nagys
uses a number of these words to create a specific archaic atmosphere in his poem “Laterna
Obscura.” Here Zdanys cannot avoid losing connotations arising from words of rare usage.
The general concern of this thesis has been to see how translators succeed in dealing with
syntactic, formal and cultural problems while translating certain Lithuanian free-verse poems. As it
turns out, the translators seek to be faithful in transferring meaning more than form, but, in most
cases, they compensate for formal losses by using other poetic devices to achieve similar effects.
Overall, translators are clearly aware of existing stylistic features in the source texts and manage to
reproduce them, even though they inevitably change, for instance, phonological features specific to
the Lithuanian language. All the translators seek to transfer, as far as possible, the same aesthetic
values that are found in original poems. Moreover, translators often find their own ways to
compensate for inevitable losses, allowing them to achieve comparable aesthetic or emotional
effects.
Taking into account all the translations that have been discussed, it could be stated that
Zdanys and Keys provide very faithful translations, for they keep close to both semantic meanings
and layout, while Sruoginis is somewhat freer in her translations and, in some cases, sacrifices
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semantic equivalence for stylistic devices such as retaining a similar length of lines, the same kind
of repetition or alliteration in the same words. However, this does not mean that Sruoginis’ choices
are completely inappropriate; on the contrary, if she decides that particular syntactic or formal
features have priority for a Lithuanian poet, then the changes she makes are motivated by her desire
to equally highlight such features.
Although the translation of poetry is the most complicated sphere of literary translation,
the present study has shown that it is by no means impossible. It is interesting to see how all the
translators discussed in this thesis come up with their own ways to produce faithful translations.
They clearly understand the Lithuanian poems and look very closely at their contents; even more,
they are aware not only of particular stylistic means, but also of the overall style of a poem.
To conclude, the analysis undertaken for this study has brought out other issues that could
be addressed in the translation of Lithuanian poems. It has been noted that certain semantic
discrepancies can affect the understanding of a poem, while the choice of different vocabulary can
change tone and alter metaphorical expressions. The present thesis has preferred to look mostly at
the transference of some syntactic and formal characteristics of free verse from Lithuanian to
English, leaving these other translation issues for future research.
83
APPENDIX 1: The Lithuanian Originals and Their English Translations of the Poems
Discussed in the Thesis
“Laterna Obscura” (LT)
(Nagys 1960: 41-42)
“Laterna Obscura” (EN)
(Zdanys 1978: 141)
Mudu piešiame vaiko veidą ant pirmojo sniego.
Po laukinių aviečių šakom supa lėlę sesuo.
Lengvą sniegą paklojo nakčia darbininkai ant gruodo
ir dažo derva medinį tiltą per Bartuvą.
Pirmagimis sniegas purus kaip sesers plaukai. 5
Together we trace the child's face in the first snow.
Beneath wild raspberry branches my sister rocks her
doll.
Last night workmen spread light snow on the frozen
ground
and now tar the wooden bridge over the Bartuva.
The newborn snow is light as my sister's hair.
5
Per susigūžusį tuščią Žemaičių kaimą
lekia kazokai, nuogais kalavijais kapodami
baltą bežadę žiemos mėnesiena.
Through the cowering empty Samogitian town
the Cossacks ride, chopping the white mute
moonlight
with their naked swords.
Mudu piešiame brolio veidą ant pirmojo sniego.
Nuomariu serganti sargo duktė sužiedėjusią duoną
trupina kapo duobėn. Kaimietės vaškinį veidą
ir klostyto popieriaus priegalvį sniegas užpusto.
Pro pūgą aidi kimi giesmė ir uždusę varpai.
Per tylų, miegantį, baltą Žemaičių kaimą
lekia kazokai, rimbais ilgais kapodami
medžiuose žėrinčią žydrą žiemos mėnesieną.
10
15
We trace our brother's face in the first snow.
The guard's epileptic daughter crumbles dry bread 10
into the coffin hole. Snow drifts over the peasant
woman's
wax face and her plaited paper pillow.
Through the snowstorm echo the hoarse hymn and
breathless bells.
Through the soundless sleeping white Samogitian
town
fly the Cossacks, chopping the blue winter moonlight
15
that shimmers in the trees with their long whips.
Niekas tavęs nebučiavo labanakčio. Niekas kartu neraudojo
mirusios motinos. Tėvo pakarto nelaidojo niekas.
Tavo žemė buvo tuščia ir nuoga. Tavo žemė, kaip
žemdirbio delnas.
Niekas tavęs karalystėn neleido - pilki apdarai plazdėjo 20
kaip seniai pamirštų pakasynų vėliavos. Maro marškonys.
No one kissed you goodnight. No one wept with you
for your dead mother. No one came to bury your
hanged father.
Your land was empty and naked. Your earth, a
peasant's palm.
No one let you into the kingdom – grey garments
fluttered
20
like long-forgotten funeral flags. Plague linens.
Per skurdų Žemaičių kaimą lekia kazokai,
ant iečių ilgų nešdami sukapotą
mėlyną žiemos mėnesieną.
Through the tattered Samogitian town fly the
Cossacks,
carrying the chopped blue winter moonlight
on their long lances.
Skaistų sekmadienio rytmetį spindinčioj žemėj 25
dažo derva darbininkai medinį tiltą per Bartuvą.
Teka giliai po ledu neskubėdama upė į jūrą.
Po aviečių šakom užpustyta miega sesers lėlė.
Mudu piešiame miegančio brolio veidą ant mėlyno sniego.
On a bright Sunday morning in the radiant land 25
workmen tar the wooden bridge over the Bartuva.
Deep beneath the ice the river flows slowly to the
sea.
Under the raspberry branches sleeps my sister's
snow-dusted doll.
Together we trace my sleeping brother's face in the
blue snow.
84
“sėdėjo prie pat gatvės…” (LT)
(Miliauskaitė 1995: 98)
“Sitting Beside the Very Street” (EN)
(trans. Sruoginis 1997: 89)
sėdėjo prie pat gatvės
ant aplūžusio suolo apsilaupusiais dažais
sitting beside the very street
on a dilapidated bench, paint peeling
pro šalį ėjo žmonės, zujo vaikai
verkė kūdikis vežimėly prie krautuvės
people stroll past, children scurry
an infant left in a carriage outside a shop wails
tokia nedidelė mėlyna berete, kokias nešioja
traktorininkai
5
storu lietpalčiu dar nuo neatmenamų laikų,
guminiais
batais aukštais aulais
wearing a small blue beret, the kind tractor
drivers wear
5
a thick raincoat from who knows how long ago,
high rubber boots
sėdėjo ir valgė ledus su vafliais
dar dvi porcijos pasidėtos šalia
he sits, eating ice cream with wafers
two more potions on the bench, beside him
senas, apšepusiais skruostais 10
vienas pats sau
autobusams sustojant prie ktautuvės
sėdėjo ir valgė ramiai ledus
old, unkempt cheeks,
alone, by himself,
10
buses stopping before the shops
he sits and calmly eats ice cream
buvo karšta gegužės pabaiga
it’s hot, the end of May
magiškas
15
ratas aplink jį, besiplečiantis
tylos ir vienatvės rata
around him
a magic circle spreads
quiet and solitude
“auksinį plauką…” (LT)
(Miliauskaitė 1995: 70)
15
“I found a golden hair…” (EN)
(Zdanys 2002: 169)
auksinį plauką
radau ant sniego
I found a golden hair
on the snow
pakėliau ilgą ilgą
auksinį plauką, angelo
pamestą plauką
5
I picked it up a long long
golden hair, an angel’s
lost hair
5
tai čia kitados jis ilsėjosi
prie Rausvės
aukštielninkas, per pačias Kalėdas
po galva pasidėjęs ranką
he rested here once upon a time
near the Rausvė
on his back, on Christmas day
his arm beneath his head
čia jį staiga pamačiau
10
nusileidus nuo kalno rogutėm
I saw him here without warning
10
when I slid down the hill on my sled
85
“Lėlių siuvėja” (LT)
(Miliauskaitė 1995: 119-120)
“Doll Maker” (EN)
(trans. Sruoginis 1997: 88)
“The Doll Maker” (EN)
(trans. Zdanys 2002: 171)
neryškus profilis
lange, ant gelsvos užuolaidos, nušviestas
lempos
tarpais sujuda, pasisuka
vėl palinksta
a murky profile
in the window; lamp light glares against
yellowish curtains
jerks forward, swings round
bends again
an indistinct profile
in the window, on the yellow curtain, lit by a
lamp
moves from time to time, turns
bends down again
nebylus šešėlis, niekam nepažystamas
5
Tu lig vidurnakčio sėdi, siūdama lėles
Žiūrėk, tavo draugas, artimiausias bičiulis mėnuo
pakyla
dumb shadow, stranger to all
5
you sit beyond midnight, sewing dolls
look, your friend, your confidant – the moon
is rising
a mute shadow, familiar to no one
5
you sit until midnight, sewing dolls
look, your friend, your closest confidant the
moon
is rising
skiautė prie skiautės, atraiža prie atraižos
diena po dienos
10
kiekviena lėlė vis kitokia, vis kita veido
išraiška
lyg būtų gyvos
šukuosena, rūbai, viskas o viskas
atitinka žmogaus padėtį, luomą
tik ar bus kam reikalingos 15
ar kas įduos
į ištiestas rankas, ar suplaks
smarkiau širdis, iš džiaugsmo
pasodini prie veidrodžio Pjero –
liūdną, blyškų, blizgančiu atlasiniu 20
rūbu, prie lango prieini, pasišnekėt su
mėluliu
jam pasiskųst ir pasiguost:
- kiekviena iš jų
nusineša ir mano
sielos dalį 25
shred by shred, pattern by pattern
day by day
each doll is always different; her expressions
vary
as if alive—
hairdos, clothing, everything, yes, everything
suits a social position, a class
only, does anyone need her?
15
will anyone deliver her
into out-stretched hands, will anyone’s heart
beat faster, from joy
scrap by scrap, piece by piece
day by day
10
every doll is always different, the expression on
each face
always different as if they were alive
hairstyles, clothes, everything and all
suits a person’s position, social class
but will they be needed by anyone
will someone pass them
into outstretched arms, will a heart
beat faster with joy
15
you seat Piero by the mirror—
sad, pale, in shiny satin
20
clothing, you move towards the window
to talk with the moon
to complain, to seek comfort:
you seat Piero before the mirror
sad, pale, in a shining satin
20
suit, walk to the window to talk to the moon
to complain to him, to find comfort:
- each one of them
carries away a scrap
of my soul
each one of them
carries away
a scrap of my soul
25
25
86
“Šiukšliavežė Justiniškėse” (LT)
(Geda 2002: 124)
šitą trumpą kovo akimirksnį
vaikui daužant sniegą
už lango
purvinom kojom
praskrendant varnai 5
dabar jau galiu
jau pajėgiu
ilgi ir dažni buvo
kūno marinimai
sunkios sielovartos 10
bet mano siela
tikrai yra
sykiu su karaliau Dovydo
visatos liūdėjimai
liūdesiai šios visatos
yra mano siela
15
dabar aš žinau
dabar galiu pasakyti
“Trash Truck in Justiniškės”(EN)
(Keys 2002: 125)
in this brief monument in March
as a child with muddy feet
stamps snow
outside the window
a crow flies by 5
now I can manage
now I am able
mortification of the body
was frequent and long
my soul’s conversion difficult 10
but my soul
truly is together
with King David’s
the universe’s sorrows
the sorrows of this universe 15
are my soul
now I know
now I can say it
87
“Atsakymas į marsiečių
užklausimą” (LT)
(Geda 1988: 10)
kairiarankių
dinastijos
palikuonis
Sigitas
Geda
5
po 2000 metų
trukusios
izoliacijos
dešiniarankių
rezervate
10
nebuvo
daugiau
persekiojimas
Lietuvoj
tiesa
15
po karo
mokykloje
braižybos
mokytojas
Kunickis 20
jį mušdavo
su lenta
per ištiestą
galvą
“An Answer to the Martians’
Inquiry” (EN)
(Zdanys 1995: 99)
descendant
of the dynasty
of the left-handed
Sigitas
Geda 5
after isolation
lasting
2000 years
on the reservation
of the right-handed 10
was no
longer
persecuted
in Lithuania
though
15
after the war
in school
the drawing
teacher
Kunickis
20
would hit him
with a board
on his bowed
head
“An Answer to a Martian
Chronicler” (EN)
(Sruoginis 1997: 71)
sole
remaining
survivor
of the
left-handed 5
dynasty
Sigitas
Geda
after a 2000
year 10
isolation
on a reservation
for the right-handed
was
no longer 15
persecuted
in Lithuania
though
after the war
in school 20
drafting
teacher
Kunickis
would
beat him 25
with a board
over his
extended
head
88
“Angelas krintantis Palangoj” (LT)
(Geda 2002: 60-62)
Tai krintančio angelo balsas,
Iš purpuro balų,
Skvernai debesų, debesų
Debesylų − gauruoti.
“An Angel Falling in Palanga” (EN)
(tr. Zdanys 1995: 111-112)
It was the voice of a falling angel,
From purple bogs,
Skirts of clouds, of clouds,
Shaggy clouds,
“Angel Falling in Palanga” (EN)
(tr. Keys 2002: 61-63)
It’s the voice of a falling angel,
From the purple – of marshes,
Folds of clouds, clouds,
Cloudberries – shaggy.
Tamsus jo drabužis,
5
Žiedadulkių gausmas,
Sparnuočiai ūmai išbaidyti
Jo balso
Jo balso – iš balų.
His clothing is dark,
5
The droning of blossom dust,
Birds vehemently frightened away
By his voice
By his voice — from the bogs.
Dark clothing.
5
Drone of pollen.
The winged-ones suddenly scared away
By his voice,
His voice – from the marshes.”
– Ir trenksmas,
10
Lyg lūžtų pasauliai,
Lyg lūžtų erdvė – iš platinos,
Akmens, iš aukso
Jo tamsūs sparnai
Šitą erdvę užkloję,
15
Šviesus kalavijas
Ir lūžtančio sparno
Skeveldros −
Tai angelo sapnas – pasaulis,
Ir sparnas, ir sparnas,
20
Šviesus kalavijas – iš sapno.
Iš pieno, iš plieno,
Medaus ir netilstančio
Marių gaudimo
Su bėgančiom, plaukiančiom,
Rėkiančiom marių žuvim,
Gyvulėliais, su aibėm
Kvailų vabalų ir dar skraidančių
— — And the noise,
10
As if worlds were breaking,
As if space were breaking — from platinum,
Stone, from gold
His dark wings
Cover this space,
15
The bright sword
And pieces
Of the breaking wing — —
– And the roar,
10
As if worlds were breaking,
As if space were breaking – from platinum,
Stone, from gold
His dark wings
Covering this space,
15
Shining sword
And fragments
Of a wing breaking −
It’s the angel’s dream − the world,
And the wing, and the wing,
20
Shining sword – from the dream.
From milk, from metal,
From honey and the everlasting
Drone of the seas
With running, swimming,
Screaming fish,
With little animals, with billions of
Stupid bugs, and seeds
The angel’s dream — the world,
And the wing, and the wing,
20
The bright sword — from the dream.
From milk, from steel,
Honey and the endless
Droning of the seas
With running, swimming,
Shouting ocean fish,
89
Sėklų padangėj.
Daugiau jau nebus, 30
Daugiau nieko nebus,
Tiktai šitas kritimas,
Srogimas, lūžimas,
Ir garsas –
Virš vienintelio mūsų pasaulio. 35
Small creatures, with heaps
Of mad insects and seeds
Still flying in the sky.
It will no longer be.
30
There will no longer be anything,
Only this falling,
Explosion, breaking,
And noise — —
Above our only world.
Still flying in the sky.
Nothing more no longer,
Nothing more,
Only this falling,
Exploding, breaking
And the sound –
Above our only world.
30
35
35
90
“GAISRAS” (LT)
(Jonynas 1997: 130)
“FIRE” (EN)
(Zdanys, Danielius, Czury 1997: 131)
Suplėšau drobę rėmus į dalis suskaldau
skutus ir šipulius metu į židinį
ar dar pajėgsiu pasiruošti tau kaip maldai –
tik atsivert ir nieko neprašyti
I tear the canvas frames to pieces
shred splinter
heave them into the fireplace
just to be open
to prepare myself for you 5
liepsna ateina siekiniams neišsakytiems 5
as in prayer
lauke užkimęs vakaro kaukimas
have I the strength
pro tamsų langą primerktom akytėm įdėmiai don’t ask
žvelgia nuolankus laukimas
the flame breathes what’s not spoken
while outside the throaty cries of dusk 10
ar dar pajėgsiu pasiruošti tau kaip maldai
this darkening window
nuraudę sienos ir raudoni baldai 10
not looking at anything
aplink tarytum kraujo lytys švyti
just staring
as in prayer
kokia beprotiška aistra užvaldo
do I have the strength to prepare myself
vilties mažytę taurę sudaužyti – –
for you
15
tik atsivert ir nieko neprašyti
the walls redden and furniture red
like ice in my blood
what terrible passion grips
one small goblet of hope
breaking it
20
just to feel open
and ask for nothing
“Šaltis” (LT)
(Parulskis 1994: 319)
“Cold” (EN)
(Sruoginis 1997: 108)
su motina
kartu su motina
mother
with mother
žengiau į požemius
į rūsį raugtų agurkų
we went underground
into the cellar for pickles
statinėj sudrumstusi vandenį
pelėsiais apejusį skystį
motina sakė
5
the water in the barrel was murky 5
liquid covered with mold
mother said
ale šaltas vanduo
šaltas vanduo sakiau aš
but the water’s cold
the water’s cold I repeated
ir iškur šitoks šaltis 10
toks šaltis kad atima ranką
and where does this cold come from 10
so cold my arm loses feeling
gal iš tamsos
iš nakties ar iš žemės
maybe from the dark
from night or from the earth
iš žemės
from the earth
po žeme bus šalčiau
15
beneath the earth it will be even colder 15
91
APPENDIX 2: Photographs of the Poets and Translators
POETS:
Figure 1: Henrikas Nagys
Source: “Henrikas Nagys.” 2008. manoknyga.lt. Accessed 14 April 2009.
http://www.manoknyga.lt/rasytojas/henrikas-nagys.html.
Figure 2. Sigitas Geda
Source: “Lithuania - Guests of Honour at the International Turin Book Fair 2007: Sigitas Geda.”
2007. Lietuva / Lithuania. Accessed 14 April 2009. http://www.lituania2007.eu/?g=virsutinis_
meniu&l=en&n=sigitas_geda&p=informacinis&m=476.
92
Figure 3. Nijolė Miliauskaitė
Source: “Nijolė Miliauskaitė – Bložienė.” 2007. Rašytojai. Accessed 14 April 2009.
http://www.rasytojai.lt/writers.en.php?id=475&sritis=rasytojai.
Figure 4: Antanas A. Jonynas
Source: “Antanas A. Jonynas.” 2007. Rašytojai. Accessed 14 April 2009. http://www.rasytojai.lt/
writers.php?id=116&jaunieji=0&sritis=rasytojai.
93
Figure 5: Sigitas Parulskis
Source: “Sigitas Parulskis: ‘Spjoviau aš ant tų įvaizdžių!’” 2008. zmones24.lt. Accessed 14 April
2009. http://www.zmones24.lt/sigitas-parulskis-spjoviau-as-ant-tu-ivaizdziu--2646.html.
TRANSLATORS:
Figure 1: Kerry Shawn Keys
Source: “Participants: Kerry Shawn Keys.” 2009. Stanza. Accessed 14 April 2009.
http://www.stanzapoetry.org/2009/participant.php?participant=114.
94
Figure 2: Jonas Zdanys
Source: “Madų šou pasibaigus...” 2008. Bičiulystė. Accessed 14 April 2009.
http://www.biciulyste.com/news-detail,news_
type~kalendorius,news~4487f81a0f1564c3b839569b994f5bbf.html.
Figure 3: Laima Sruoginis
Source: Laima Vincė. 2008. Accessed 14 April 2009.
http://www.laimavince.com/index.html.
95
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